Waiting to Exhale
by may7fic
Summary: Recipe for disaster: Start with two parts stubbornness and combine fierce protectiveness and denial with burgeoning independence and petulance. Mix in fear and guilt; let simmer, stirring the pot frequently. Toss in jealousy plus a severe case of wrong place/wrong time; bring everything to a boil. Serve with angst and h/c. Daniel, Adam, Crane, Brian with a side helping of the rest.
1. Chapter 1

_**Recipe for a McFadden family disaster:** Start with two parts stubbornness and combine fierce protectiveness and denial with burgeoning independence and petulance. Mix in fear and guilt and let simmer, stirring the pot frequently. Toss in jealousy and a severe case of wrong place/wrong time and bring everything to a boil. Serve with angst and hurt/comfort._

_Or… Adam and Daniel butt heads one too many times. Heartbreak and tragedy ensue. Those two plus Crane, Brian and a side helping of the rest._

**Rating:** PG13, T (language, adult/mature themes)  
**Wordcount: **Approx. 4,300 of 100,000 plus  
**Warnings:** Those aforementioned adult/mature themes, f-bombs and worse, plus a few potentially triggery scenarios.  
**Disclaimers:** See my profile page.  
**Notes:** So, I've updated my profile, removing the line about not posting works-in-progress to the Web. That's because this fic is definitely a WIP. I've been working on it forever though and, at over 70,000 words and 140-plus pages as of now, I'm itching to start posting it. I still have a lot more of the story to write from scratch though and it's not coming together quite as neatly as **Surfacing** had when I started posting it. With that in mind I need to give myself more breathing space in terms of posting increments. That means, to begin with, I'm aiming at uploading a chapter every three weeks. With a promise to speed things up when I feel I comfortably can.  
Thanks as always to Katt for this beta and for all the time you'll be spending working on this monster in the coming months.  
Apologies and thanks to Terry McMillan for such a wonderful title.  
This story is set a few months after the series ended, in the Spring of 1983.

* * *

**Waiting to Exhale  
**_by May Robinson_

**Chapter 1**

Daniel McFadden quickly made his way down the long stair-case, shrugging on a leather vest over his best shirt, his most-recently written melody playing in his head.

"Meep meep."

"Hey, watch it, squirt!" he groused in response to Guthrie's Road Runner impersonation. Seemingly oblivious, the twelve year-old scooted past him, his knapsack in tow. In an effort to avoid elbowing the youngster, Daniel had damn near lost his footing. He wasn't truly mad though. Guthrie's enthusiasm was a welcome thing. Especially these days.

He knew the boy was both in a hurry and excited. Sophie Barton and her son Eddie were waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs.

It was a busy Friday night in the McFadden household. The Bartons had been invited to dinner after which Guthrie would head back to their place for a sleepover. Despite their initial conflict over some property rights, the neighbors, especially the two boys, had become good friends. Daniel knew his youngest brother was looking forward to hanging out with Eddie, watching TV and especially playing video games, the latter being something he never had the opportunity to do at home.

Evan and Ford were already out, having been picked up by friends and given a ride to the school dance. It didn't actually start until seven o'clock but Daniel knew the guys would be taking a detour for ice cream or milkshakes in Copperopolis before heading back up to the school. Having volunteered to chaperone, Adam and Hannah would soon be following them.

As good a reason as any Daniel was glad he was through with school dances, if not quite school itself.

With Daniel and Crane on their way to Stockton, Brian would soon be the last McFadden left at home tonight. Not for long though. Linda - or was it Lindsay? - was picking him up and they were going out. Daniel had hoped their date would include coming to watch his band play but, oddly, despite Brian's bar-hopping inclinations, he hadn't shown any interest in seeing them perform even before they'd landed their gig in Stockton. Daniel was trying his best not to take that personally. Still, he had a sneaking suspicion about why Brian wasn't coming. That it had to do with brotherly solidarity and unfortunately Daniel wasn't the sibling Brian was siding with.

"Did you remember your toothbrush, Guthrie?" Hannah asked as the boy pulled his jacket out from the front-hall closet.

"Aw, Hannah," he replied sulkily, as though the mere thought of having to brush his teeth had somehow just ruined his entire weekend. Daniel had to grin at the kid's pouty face, grateful that his baby brother was again unwittingly pulling him out of the morose thoughts he so easily found himself languishing in these days.

Their sister-in-law remained undeterred and, having caught up to Guthrie, placed her hands firmly on his shoulders and steered him back around to face the stairs. "Don't, _'aw, Hannah'_ me, young man. Someday you'll appreciate my interest in your oral hygiene," she said with a smile and a genuine twinkle in her eye.

"Hannah's right, Guthrie." The agreement came from Mrs. Barton and Daniel felt a momentary pang of sympathy for the youngest McFadden. Motherless for ten years, he now had two on his case, even if neither were technically his. The pity didn't last though once Sophie, who was way too attractive to be anyone's mom, caught Daniel's eye and gave him a wink. "You keep brushing your teeth and you'll have a smile that'll drive the girls wild. Just like Daniel's," she said lightly and Daniel snorted and dropped his head, desperately trying _not_ to smile. He hoped like hell his hair was covering ears he knew were flaming red. He looked up again though when Sophie affectionately patted his arm. "I hear it's standing room only over at The Brick Walk and mostly women in the crowd."

Daniel was saved having to answer by Guthrie's incredulous, "And that's supposed to make me _want_ to brush my teeth?"

The kid looked like he'd just sucked on a lemon and Daniel couldn't help but laugh.

God, it felt good to do that. It had been pretty tense at home lately. With his last year of school winding down, instead of being around more like Adam had expected, Daniel had been absent. A lot. The band had accepted this awesome gig at The Brick Walk restaurant and bar in Stockton and it was keeping him out late Thursday and Friday nights. Saturday nights too of course but, what had seemingly pissed Adam off the most was when the club had added an earlier set for the band on Saturdays too. Daniel supposed he should've talked it out with Adam first before accepting but, damn it, this was Daniel's life. His dream. Not to mention his future livelihood. Besides, he was making good money. Enough that the band had finally been in a position to set up a bank account.

Daniel was even putting aside some of his portion of the earnings for the ranch. The rest was just for him; savings toward rent somewhere or maybe his own car so he wouldn't have to take the bus down to L.A.

Not that he'd made any actual plans to leave home.

Yet.

Someday though…

Admittedly only Crane knew about the ranch money. He kind of _had_ to know since the band had appointed Crane as their manager-slash-accountant. Daniel hadn't wanted to tell anyone else yet though. Okay, so maybe he was being a little superstitious. Maybe even a little paranoid about losing the gig somehow so, until he had enough money saved to help out with something significant, he'd told Crane to keep quiet about it.

Crane hadn't exactly warmed to the idea. Big brother had argued that Adam would be more receptive to the whole Brick Walk scenario if he'd known from the start about the income Daniel was pulling in. Daniel could see the logic in that but; he still wanted to hold off; looking forward to the day he could hand over a substantial wad of cash to Adam.

Daniel couldn't wait to see the look of shock and delight on his oldest brother's face when he saw how much money Daniel had already earned.

And maybe then Adam would truly believe in him, believe in his talent.

Happily, Daniel was already in that position but he still wanted to wait until after Crane had tallied up this weekend's take before announcing anything to the family. Despite his objection to the secrecy, since Saturdays provided the band their best income, Crane understood why Daniel wanted to hold off a few more days.

Daniel knew he could count on Crane's silence. His closest brother had been even more supportive than usual since they'd started playing in Stockton. Though it was a point of contention with Adam and Brian, Crane was doing Daniel's chores on Friday mornings - allowing him to sleep in some before school - plus he was doing Daniel's share of the load on Saturdays. He was also coming to see the band perform Friday nights without fail.

He'd been coming Saturday nights too up until the last month when the additional set was added. Both Adam and Brian had objected to the ranch being down one vehicle for that length of time, an argument Daniel understood. So, on Saturdays Red picked him up and they'd meet Cory and Sam, the other guys in the band, at The Brick Walk.

Daniel was lucky to have Crane on his side. Hell, sometimes it felt like Crane was his only ally, though he knew that wasn't fair. Or accurate. Hannah had stood up to her husband a few times when it came to the band and Daniel truly appreciated it. He supposed that might have been the real reason Adam had only grumbled a little more than usual when Crane had insisted he was going to take over Daniel's Saturday chores.

It had been working too. At least until the damn clutch died on the tractor. Again. Ranch-work Crane could do every bit as well as Daniel but, he didn't have Daniel's skill at mechanics. Brian was just as good with a wrench as far as Daniel was concerned but, with brother number two working the range so much, equipment repair typically fell to number four.

There was only so much even Daniel could do though with used and re-used parts. The clutch was toast. He'd known it when he'd begun the repair last Sunday but, well, pride got in the way so he started pulling the thing apart anyway. And even though he'd tried to baby it, he still managed to shear off some of the flywheel bolts trying to remove the infernal thing. So, now the flywheel was sitting at Walt Henry's garage waiting for Daniel to resurface it.

Which he couldn't do until the new clutch came in. The one that was on back-order.

Of course.

He should've called Ed Rackley that Monday to let him know they needed one but, well, that new melody had come to Daniel in class. And it had taken all his willpower just to stay seated at his desk instead of bolting out of Physics class to put the notes down on his sheet music like he'd wanted. He'd spent his lunch hour working on the song and completely forgot to call Ed. By the time he'd remembered the next day, they'd sold the last one in stock and had to place the order instead. Something even Crane didn't know.

It wasn't Daniel's fault the damn thing was on back-order. Was it?

Even still, guilt was gnawing at him. At least he could feel better about paying for it himself once the part came in. After all, new clutches were exactly the reason he'd started setting aside that cash.

Between Sophie's flattery, Guthrie's antics and the pride Daniel felt in knowing that he'd be the one purchasing that clutch, his spirits were starting to lift again. Never mind how much he was really looking forward to getting on stage tonight and singing his songs to a truly appreciative crowd. And speaking of his fans, he felt just cocky enough to respond to Sophie's comment about them.

"Well, not _all_ of them are girls. There's a few guys too."

"Yeah, jealous ones," Crane interjected good-naturedly, swiping a hand through Daniel's hair as he, Brian and Adam made their way from the kitchen over to the stairs.

"That's my boy," Brian contributed; his smirk all the more amusing once Adam yanked the dish-towel from Brian's shoulder and draped it over his head.

"I'll just bet," Sophie said provocatively and Daniel blushed again at her brazenness. He knew the older woman had no interest in him; in fact she flirted with all his brothers, even married Adam. Still, as confident as he was with the girls in school and those showing up for his gigs, Sophie Barton had a way of making Daniel feel like he was back in sixth grade again. When he'd had his first crush on a grown woman - Mrs. Cook, his home room teacher.

Apparently all their talk about girls was too much for Guthrie. "Ewwww, come on, Eddie," he said with an eye-roll before the two boys trudged upstairs, presumably on the hunt for Guthrie's toothbrush.

Momentarily distracted by poor Guthrie's repulsion, Daniel startled a little when Adam came up behind him and wrapped an arm across his shoulders. There'd been such a strain between them lately he had to admit that the unexpected gesture felt awfully good. Daniel even relaxed and leaned into it some. And when Adam gave him a squeeze and began to speak, Daniel was actually looking forward to his big brother joining in with their teasing banter.

"Too bad we couldn't get some of loverboy's adoring fans out here to cheer him on… maybe then we'd have ourselves a working tractor."

Daniel tried not to flinch. He knew by Adam's laughing tone that he was kidding. His big brother didn't mean those words to hurt, right? His gaze darted to Crane, and Daniel caught a flash of anger in his roommate's eyes before being met with sympathy. Hannah's head had dropped but he could see that her lips were pursed, like maybe she was holding something in. It helped to know that they understood. That the sudden ache Daniel felt in his chest was justified.

It didn't help enough.

Abruptly shrugging out of Adam's hold, Daniel bit out, "Gotta get my gear," and then hurriedly made his way back up to his room, slamming the door even louder than he'd intended when he got there.

* * *

"Shit!" Vince Warner swore, slamming on his brakes as he realized he'd been driving too fast and missed the corner he'd been looking for. Big mistake. Clipping the shoulder, the gravel beneath the Ram's tires was loose and he felt his thudding heart leap into his throat as the half-ton's empty bed started to fishtail. Over-steering he narrowly missed hitting the guardrail before the tires finally found purchase and shot the truck across the road. He was damn lucky the isolated route was empty of any other traffic.

Come to think of it, he hadn't seen anyone else on the road from the minute he'd turned onto it.

He was stopped now, whether he'd intended or not, the Dodge's nose and front wheels pointing down into the ditch running parallel to the roadway. Somehow he'd missed hitting the trees and shrubs lining the hills not to mention the speed-limit sign just a few feet away.

His legs were shaking involuntarily, as was his arm as he fumbled open the door and got out of the confines of the pickup. Practically falling out of its cab, he leaned over and braced his hands against still wobbly knees. Sucking in cool air and ignoring the resultant sting in his tender nostrils.

After a minute or two, he felt both his heart-rate and his shakiness subside. Straightening, Vince inspected his vehicle; elated that not only had he found no damage, none of the tires were buried in the soft ground either. The rear wheels were still on the shoulder, more or less, so all he had to do was back the 4x4 out of the ditch and then he'd be home free.

But first he felt compelled to take a look across the road. Call it morbid curiosity but, even as he was steering to regain control and save his life, he'd caught a glimpse of the view. Now he wanted a closer look.

"Son of a bitch," he said out loud. His chest swelling with pride more than relief as he realized his superior driving skills had saved him from what would've surely been a fiery crash had anyone else been behind the wheel. The landscape beneath his boots wasn't quite a cliff; it did have a slope after all but, between its surprising depth and the trees at the bottom of it, the end result would've been the same… certain death.

Vince felt a rush of adrenaline surge through his veins. If only she'd been in the truck with him.

She would've been so impressed.

* * *

Adam McFadden stood in the doorway, waving to Guthrie and the Bartons and watching as Sophie pulled away in her station wagon. He wondered how long he could keep standing there before it became obvious to those behind him that he was stalling, avoiding facing the music.

Their music.

Yup, Adam had stuck his foot in it again with Daniel and he knew Crane was pissed with him. Worse, he knew Hannah was too, or at the very least disappointed. Hell, even Brian had looked fairly irritated.

Damn it.

And Adam had been in such good humor thanks to the encounter he'd had in town earlier in the day.

_Way to ruin your own good mood, McFadden._

He'd only been kidding when he'd made that comment to Daniel about the tractor.

Mostly.

Okay, so maybe a little dig had been intended but with Crane bending over backwards these days to make it easy for Daniel to play in Stockton, the last thing Daniel needed was for Sophie to feed the boy's ego.

Somebody had to keep Daniel firmly grounded in reality and that job apparently fell to the kid's oldest brother.

Adam had become guardian to Daniel and the others a decade ago and he still took his role seriously. Just because their middle brother was eighteen now didn't mean Adam's job was over.

Especially when the kid was determined to dive head-first into a pit of rattlers. Or, well, get into the music business.

Same difference. Both would suck the life out of him.

Daniel definitely had talent. He'd become a terrific guitarist, had a good voice, great looks and had loads of stage presence. And from all accounts Daniel was really blossoming as a song-writer too. Admittedly those reports came mostly from Crane and, well, Crane tended to have blinders on when it came to his roommate. He'd always been Daniel's staunchest supporter so, though Adam respected Crane's opinion on most things, he felt it might be a little bit suspect where Daniel's music was concerned.

Except whenever Adam went into Murphys, almost inevitably he'd hear from someone singing the boy's praises. With a ready-made and appreciative audience like that at home, Adam frankly had no idea why Daniel had accepted that job in Stockton. It was over an hour away and big brother was none too happy that the teen had to face that drive home in the middle of the night. Especially on a school night.

Truth be told, Adam didn't like the idea of Daniel being so far away playing in bars he wasn't yet old enough to drink in. Though Crane had assured him that the club was far from a dive, Adam knew full well how rowdy those places could get.

He'd wanted to put an end to it; tell Daniel he had to quit outright but, before he could even broach the subject, Crane had cut Adam off at the pass. Coming up with a solution for every logical argument he'd presented, it had actually blindsided Adam a little. Crane was a consummate worrier and took his role as Daniel's immediate big brother very seriously. For him _not_ to worry about Daniel playing as far away as Stockton, well, it seemed almost out of character.

It was hard to argue with Crane's logic though so, despite his concerns, Adam had relented and accepted his brother's wisdom. Truth be told, Hannah's input had a lot to do with that too.

He still wasn't happy about caving though.

He had to admit he almost felt a certain sense of relief when the tractor's clutch decided to croak on them again. Because that had finally proven to both Daniel _and_ Crane that Crane couldn't pull all of Daniel's weight around the place.

Adam hadn't counted on the parts being on back-order though.

If anything, with no tractor to work on after school, Daniel had found even more time this week to hide away in his room and work on his music.

After running into Ed Rackley today and finding out Daniel hadn't ordered the new clutch until the day after he was supposed to, Adam had found himself wondering just for a brief instant if Daniel had decided to wait on purpose.

And then he kicked himself for even considering the notion. He knew the boy better than that. The kid might be burning the candle at both ends but he certainly wouldn't intentionally shirk his responsibilities. Adam still felt guilty about having had such a mean-spirited thought. Probably the only reason he hadn't called Daniel on it.

Then again, he supposed that did have a lot to do with his dig a minute ago too.

Crap.

Adam hated that the kid's music had become such a contentious issue in their house. That it was spawning thoughts like he was having. Hell, sometimes Adam even regretted that he'd nurtured it when Daniel was little, though he knew that wasn't fair. Or true. Without question he believed the boy's love for music had helped pull him out of the despair he'd been drowning in after losing their parents. Adam had been grateful for it then. And he'd encouraged it whole-heartedly.

It was like Evan and his rodeo, a hobby Adam had been staunchly supportive of until he'd realized their seventeen year-old was seriously considering it as a vocation. Hell, he didn't know which career choice scared him the most.

Unlike when Evan had impetuously announced his desire to quit school and follow the rodeo circuit, the worst part of this whole Stockton issue was that it was starting to draw lines between the members of their family. In a way he hadn't felt since he'd kicked Brian off their mountain polo team.

The opposing sides were different this time. Though they hadn't really discussed the matter, Adam felt Brian's allegiance lock, stock and barrel. But where Adam was used to Crane having his back, brother number three was firmly in Daniel's camp this time. As was Evan, despite Daniel's music contributing to the brothers' fisticuffs during the last roundup. Adam figured those two must have drawn the same parallels he had about their future goals and had managed to find a common ground. He supposed he should've been pleased they weren't fighting anymore, and he was.

For the most part.

Ford was staying pretty neutral, though he looked damn miserable playing the role of Switzerland. And Guthrie, well, Adam knew the boy's hero-worship still bought his guardian a lot of good will. Except when Adam crossed the line and said something hurtful. Which was why he was infinitely relieved the squirt had missed what he'd said to Daniel about fixing that damn tractor. That would've earned Adam one hell of a stink-eye for sure.

And then there was Hannah.

Adam's beautiful bride wasn't afraid to oppose him when she thought he was in the wrong. Boy, had Adam learned that lesson the hard way. Fortunately, even when she did disagree with him about the boys, she aired her opinions in private.

They'd been having quite a few private discussions about Daniel lately.

Which was why he knew she was disappointed in her husband right now.

She'd been trying to tell him to give Daniel some breathing space. And to afford Daniel the respect he and his music deserved. Damned if she didn't sound like Crane in those moments.

And though it went against every protective instinct he had, he'd actually had every intention of acquiescing to her wishes. At least for tonight.

Too bad his mouth hadn't gotten that message.

It wasn't too late though. Though Daniel and Crane were due to leave soon, likely as soon as the boy came back downstairs, Adam knew there was still time to extend the proverbial olive branch to his kid brother.

And what a perfectly fitting offering he had to give.

Resisting rubbing his hands together in eager anticipation, Adam finally turned around to face his wife and Brian and Crane. Shrugging his shoulders a little meekly at the varying degrees of displeasure staring back at him, he only had time to send a confident smile their way before he shifted his attention to the stairs and the teenager beginning their descent.

Daniel was making his way with a lot less enthusiasm than he usually had before a show and Adam couldn't help but feel another twinge of guilt. He knew his words were responsible for that change in demeanor.

Before Adam could say anything though, Crane brushed past him and met Daniel at the base of the stairs. Unburdening their brother of his guitar case, the one Adam knew was protecting their mom's old six-string, Crane softly asked, "You okay?"

Though not so soft that Adam couldn't hear it.

Daniel's eyes were downcast when he answered with a shrug. "Yeah… Same old, right?" Still looking at his boots, he glanced up at Crane briefly, adding, "You ready to roll?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure," Crane said with forced enthusiasm and Adam couldn't help but wonder about the hesitation he heard there. Wondered if it was because Crane was torn between wanting to go with Daniel and staying behind to give his eldest brother yet another lecture in his series on _"How best to deal with Daniel"_.

Tamping down the resentment he felt over the latter possibility, Adam stepped forward. Unwilling to let them leave without sharing the news he felt confident would undo the hurt he'd caused.

"Hold on a minute," he said, trying to keep any hint of command from his voice.

"Adam, I can't. I gotta go," Daniel replied almost pleadingly. "I can't be late for this gig."

Adam knew damn well Daniel wasn't even approaching late. Still, he supposed that imploring tone was the only thing keeping his hackles down as the uncharitable thought of: _you're never in this much of a hurry to work the ranch_ flashed through his mind.

He quashed that down too before plastering a smile on his face. One that was quickly becoming authentic the more he thought about his news.

After all, wasn't he about to give Hannah and Crane what they wanted from him? More support for Daniel's music?

He'd show them just how supportive he could be.

"Yeah, well, about that... I wanted to catch you before you left. I've got some good news."

They both were wearing wary expressions now and Adam felt damn near smug, knowing that he'd be responsible for eliminating that concern.

"It looks like you're going to have to tell Red and the guys to get themselves another guitarist for next Saturday." At the look of shock on Daniel's face, Adam practically crowed, "Because I've got you a solo show someplace else."

.

_To be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"You did what?"

Daniel managed to squeak out the question Crane hadn't been able to formulate on his own. Because his brain was stuck on a relentless though simple loop: _Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no! _

Oh, shit. Just what had Adam done?

"What do you mean you've booked me another gig?" The kid sounded incredulous this time, though there was plenty of dread and anger in his tone too.

And Crane didn't blame him one bit.

Daniel couldn't just skip out on the band, for Pete's sake. Especially on a Saturday and with only a week's notice. He wasn't "just" their guitarist like Adam had implied; he was their lead singer too; the draw. The reason people were lining up outside to get a table at The Brick Walk or a seat at the bar. Which meant Daniel wasn't only responsible to the band he was responsible to Mike Talbot, the owner of the place too.

The man with whom they'd signed a contract.

"What do you mean, _'what do I mean'_?" Adam asked, sounding every bit as flummoxed as Crane felt. "You're gonna do a different show that night," he added and Crane cringed at the patronizing tone, not to mention Adam's choice of words.

"The hell I am."

Crane felt a chill race up his spine. He couldn't ever remember Daniel sounding this defiant. And he knew that response was going to make Adam's head spin.

It was time to intervene.

"Easy," Crane cautioned, squeezing Daniel's shoulder before stepping in front of him, insinuating himself between his two brothers. The kid was damn near vibrating which made it awfully easy for Crane to meet Adam's hostile gaze with one of equal intensity.

"Adam—"

Hannah spoke her husband's name in unison with Crane and he was grateful to his sister-in-law for also stepping into the line of fire. Though he wasn't afraid to take on Adam in Daniel's defense, he'd follow Hannah's lead. Adam was looking at her now, their gazes locked. But, as Hannah took Adam's hand in hers and ran another along his arm, Crane watched his brother visibly relent, his unyielding posture relax just a little.

Her eyes met Crane's next and in them he saw her concern and compassion. Compassion Crane knew was meant for the youth trying to take calming breaths behind him.

Crane blindly reached back there, certain that Daniel would let himself be drawn forward. Tugging Daniel into his side, Crane spoke up. "Now's not the time for this, Adam. We've gotta go."

Adam sighed then, his ire seemingly on the back-burner for now. "Look, I know you have to leave but just hear me out a minute, all right?" Reaching out to an unresponsive Daniel, Adam yanked lightly on the kid's vest. "Hey, you gotta give me some credit here. I was trying to give you as much notice as I could."

At least he was sounding more reasonable.

The humility apparently did help and Crane could feel some of Daniel's tension ease under his arm. Though relieved that what had promised to become a full-fledged shouting match hadn't come to that, Crane stayed on guard. After all, it didn't matter what Adam was about to say, there was no way Daniel was going to renege on the band or Mike. He simply couldn't.

"Adam, don't you get it? It doesn't matter," Daniel finally responded; his anger abated for the time being. "I can't. I've made a commitment to the band."

_Shit. Not a good choice of words there either, kiddo._ These two definitely knew exactly how to push each other's buttons. And which buttons to push.

"And what about your commitment to the ranch, huh?" Adam replied tersely, the response unfortunately exactly what Crane had expected. "What if I told you doing this would benefit all of us and not just you?"

Now _that_ was even more out of line. "Oh, come on. That's hardly fair," Crane protested. He knew those words had stung. Never mind how untrue they were. Daniel playing at The Brick Walk was definitely benefiting the ranch.

Admittedly Adam didn't know that yet.

_Why couldn't this conversation have waited a couple more days?_

"No, let's hear what he has to say," Daniel said acerbically, pulling out of Crane's hold. "Exactly how would _me_ doing this help out the ranch?"

"By giving us a breeding season with any Wheeler bull we want," Adam answered damn near condescendingly.

"What? Well, all right! How'd you manage that?"

Adam's announcement had apparently struck all of them mute except for Brian. Their second born who, Crane had to admit, had showed remarkable restraint by not offering his ranch-biased opinions… until now.

Unfortunately Brian's question, and its accompanying enthusiasm, opened the door for Adam to barrel right through.

"Get this," Adam started, sounding awfully pleased with himself. "I saw ole Russ at the feed mill and imagine my surprise when he and the missus followed me out to the truck. It seems it's their precious Cleo's birthday coming up and all she wants for her "Sweet Sixteen" is for Murphys' own Daniel McFadden to sing at her party."

_Oh, crap. Could this get any worse?_

It was bad enough that Adam had agreed to this without consulting Daniel but, did it not occur to him how Ford would feel about Cleo wanting Daniel to sing at her party? They all knew how smitten Ford was with the girl. As if the McFadden roof didn't have enough conflict going on underneath it these days, was Adam trying to create more?

Crane placed his hands on Daniel's shoulders, shoulders so tense that the muscles beneath his grip felt like steel. That didn't stop Crane from trying to squeeze them though and pull the kid back into his hold. Carefully. Daniel felt so rigid in his grasp, so brittle, Crane almost feared his little brother might snap.

"And Daddy's little princess gets whatever she wants. At any price," Brian deduced wryly, a sly grin forming on his face. Seemingly oblivious to the kid brother about to explode in their midst.

"You betcha," Adam replied, beaming with pride. "Hell, if we had the room, I bet I could've finagled him shipping us two bulls and not just the one."

Daniel sucked in a breath, one he didn't seem capable of expelling and Crane shot Hannah a desperate, pleading look. He needed her to get through to her husband or, better yet, shut him the hell up. Now.

God, this was so wrong. Did Adam not see that he was treating Daniel like he was the livestock here?

"You sly dog, you," Brian said, clearly impressed. The oldest McFadden brothers were sure happy with themselves, adding insult to injury when the two of them practically exchanged high fives.

"Adam, Brian, stop!" There was a slight waver in Hannah's voice but Crane couldn't be sure if it was that or its uncharacteristic sharpness that finally broke up the impromptu celebration. "Don't you think maybe you should've talked to Daniel about this?"

_What a novel idea? _If the situation hadn't been so serious, Crane would've laughed out loud. He was so mad though the only thing keeping him from going off on his two older siblings was the knowledge that if he lost control, Daniel would follow suit.

Of course keeping Daniel from losing his cool would be a futile endeavor if Brian kept spouting off insensitive, guilt-inducing crap like, "What's there to talk about? Daniel knows how much that bloodline is strengthening the herd."

"No."

Crane cringed at the single word that clawed its way out of Daniel's throat. Breaking away once again from Crane's hold and breathing hard, Daniel's hands were clenched as he stepped toward Adam and Brian.

Crane knew that the responsibility Brian had just piled on Daniel's shoulders would cut deep. Brian didn't get it, didn't understand the situation any more than Adam did. Even if he'd wanted to sing at Cleo's party, Daniel couldn't agree to it.

Adam must've heard the emotion in Daniel's refusal, his features softening as he maybe, finally, realized that Daniel wasn't just being stubborn here but was really struggling with this. Reaching for a resistant Daniel he cupped the kid's jawline, resting his hand there as he spoke with a warm smile. "Look, I know this isn't the bright lights of Stockton, kiddo but, "no" just isn't an option here. I made a deal and it's one we can't afford to back out of."

_Oh, fuck. Here we go._

"_You_ made a deal?" Angrily knocking away Adam's hand, the kid took another step forward, right into Adam's personal space. "What about the deal _I _made, huh? The one with the band and with the club?"

"Danny, come on. Take it easy," Crane implored. He was afraid Daniel might actually get physical. Lord knew Crane was _that_ angry.

Not surprisingly, Adam didn't back up one iota with Daniel's approach. Clearly not intimidated at all, which Crane knew would only infuriate Daniel further. In fact big brother was taking the threat so lightly he didn't even seem all that upset. Instead of taking up the gauntlet like Crane fully expected, Adam actually sighed. "Daniel, come on. We've been through this before. You know responsibility to the family trumps everything else."

Chalk up another shovel full of guilt dumped on Daniel.

"Adam, I said no. This isn't hap-"

Their eldest wasn't listening, interrupting with, "Hey, if it's any consolation I made Wheeler sweeten the deal..."

Adam actually seemed to pause for dramatic effect. And it was working. Crane couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this tense witnessing one of their fights. Desperately worried about what damage their big brother might inflict with the next words to come out of his mouth.

"There's fifty bucks in it for you," Adam announced and Crane closed his eyes. Heard himself groan.

_Oh, Adam._

* * *

_Fifty bucks…_

_Fifty bucks?_

Was that seriously all Adam thought his songs and voice were worth? What Adam thought _he_ was worth?

No, wait a minute. That wasn't right. Not just fifty bucks. Apparently his practices, late nights and blistered fingers were worth fifty bucks and a jacked off load of bull semen too.

He should be furious. And hurt.

He was.

But more than that Daniel was scared. Scared of the swirling thoughts bombarding his mind that were all coalescing into one undeniable conclusion.

It was time.

He couldn't breathe; the walls were closing in on him and he needed to get away. To be anywhere but here. He'd been slowly suffocating these last few months but tonight he felt like he was gasping for his last, precious breath.

"Daniel!" He heard Crane's anxiety, Hannah's too but their voices were tinny and oddly distant. Not Crane's touch though and Daniel nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt his brother grasp his arm. His nerves were tingling and he couldn't handle contact, even though he knew the gesture was meant to soothe him.

It didn't work.

Abruptly pulling away, Daniel looked at the front door - his escape route - and felt a wave of crushing guilt.

He had the wherewithal to feel angry about that. It wasn't his fault he'd been born to ranch life. It sure as hell hadn't been his choice. And it wasn't his fault that the ranch was never going to turn enough profit for his siblings to buy out his share and lift that burden from his shoulders.

Well, his brothers might not be able to buy _him_ out but Daniel could at least buy _them_ out of this mess.

His boots reached the landing before he even realized he'd made his way back upstairs again. He'd vaguely heard Hannah call after him and Crane's, "What in the hell were you thinking?" presumably directed at Adam.

Stepping into the room he'd shared with Crane all his life, he felt breathless again. The memories and sanctuary it provided hitting him like a punch deep to the gut. He knew Crane had his back, always would. It wasn't fair though – putting his best friend in the middle all the time like this. Daniel knew how much Crane loved and respected Adam.

Looking around at his belongings Daniel started to feel a sense of calm. He didn't have to take it all tonight. It's not like the house was going anywhere. Opening up the closet, he grabbed his duffel bag from the floor and tossed in his sneakers and another shirt before striding over to his chest of drawers. Pulling out some t-shirts, a couple pairs of socks and briefs he closed that drawer and opened the top one, the one that held the old wooden box containing some of his most cherished trinkets.

And all of his money.

Pulling out the cash, he was grateful he hadn't yet taken Crane's advice and opened up a savings account for it like they'd done for the band. He knew it was dumb but, seeing those bills pile up in the box made him proud and gave him a sense of satisfaction in a way he didn't think a bank passbook could. In that moment Daniel had more cash in his hands than he'd ever seen in the possession of any member of his family.

"Daniel, don't do this."

It was Crane, standing in their doorway, looking breathless and a little scared too. Daniel realized then that his brother knew exactly what he was doing. What he was planning.

"I have to," Daniel said, resignation in his voice as he tried to hold on to that sense of calm.

"No, you don't." Crane sounded almost desperate. Angry too when he added, "And you keep that money. It's yours."

Daniel knew Crane inside out too and understood that his anger wasn't aimed at his roommate. "It's mine to do with as I please," Daniel replied with a hint of apology. He wondered if Crane would still be willing to look after the band's finances. Smiled sadly when he realized of course he would.

Setting the money aside, he closed the box and placed it inside the duffel before zipping it up and shrugging it over his shoulder.

"Danny, come on. Please don't do this." Crane looked about as upset as he sounded but Daniel couldn't let that sway him. His brother could talk him into and out of anything so he had to steel himself against that. Against him.

He'd made up his mind.

Gathering up the cash again, Daniel couldn't meet his brother's gaze as he softly told him, "It's done, Crane," brushing past him and making his way back down the stairs.

When they reached the bottom, the three eldest McFaddens were standing there waiting for him, Adam looking strained as Hannah held onto his arm with both hands. Her eyes were wet and she was worrying her bottom lip and Daniel felt pretty darn terrible about that. Especially knowing that she was likely responsible for preventing Adam from following him like Crane had. He failed miserably at offering her a grateful smile but was appreciative just the same. Daniel wasn't up to any more battles with her husband and he wasn't sure how he would have reacted if Adam had barged into his room.

Brian looked pretty tense, maybe even a little confused and Daniel couldn't decide if that should make him laugh or cry.

"Dan'l, look-" Brian started but Daniel cut him off. He had neither the time nor fortitude to get into this with Brian either.

"No, _you_ look…" he insisted, the harshness even catching himself off guard. "And listen…" Holding up the stack of bills, Daniel allowed himself a moment of satisfaction as he watched three sets of expressions morph into surprise. Fanning the money in his grasp, Daniel counted out a hundred dollars and handed it to Hannah. "This is for Ford. If Wheeler isn't willin' to pay him to replace me or even if he is. Make sure he gets this, okay?"

"Sweetheart, you don't-"

"Just take it, all right? And tell him he'll do great." He softly implored as he pressed the five twenties into her trembling hand.

"Daniel, what's going on here?" Adam said tightly and Daniel turned to face him. "Where'd you-"

Daniel dropped his head. At least his oldest brother had had the decency to cut himself off. After all, where else would Adam think he'd gotten the money? It wasn't like he'd robbed a bank. Hell, even if he'd wanted to hold one up, when would he find the time?

Daniel started to count the remaining bills but abruptly realized the balance didn't matter. It wasn't his anymore. "Here," he said as he thrust the rest toward Adam. "It's everything I have and it's yours. Fix the clutch; buy a new bull, do both... I don't care." Daniel's voice cracked when he said that. He didn't really mean it. He meant this though: "I have to go to work. My _only_ work."

Adam actually looked a little stunned but Daniel couldn't relish in the moment. It hadn't played out the way he'd dreamt it. There was no triumph. No victory here. Feeling his throat clog with tears, he didn't wait for Adam to accept his offering. Releasing the cash he turned his back on his family, gathered up his guitar and walked out the front door…

Absently aware of the bills floating toward the floor as he ignored the four distinct voices calling out his name.

* * *

Vince found the corner this time, shaking his head at himself for having missed the sign marking the intersection. He hadn't noticed it when he'd been up here last night either but, he knew he could chalk that up to relying on following the tail-lights up ahead of him in the distance rather than watching out for any landmarks or signs. He only really had taken note of the directions on his way back into town, and the approach to the T-intersection looked completely different on the return trip than it had on the way up here.

Plus everything looked different in daylight.

He spotted the red mailbox easy enough and turned into the driveway. It was lengthier than he'd expected, not having navigated it last night. Shaded by immense trees, when he saw the sprawling bungalow at its end, Vince couldn't help but wonder how she could afford to live here.

Her Duster was parked in the driveway and he felt a thrill knowing she was home.

Alone.

No jackass bosses or muscle-bound bouncers to send him on his way before he had a chance to get through to her. To make her understand that they were meant to be together.

Always.

* * *

"Danny, hold up. Stop," Crane called after him, his voice strained with fear and worry. The kid was already loading his guitar in the Jeep and Crane was afraid that Daniel would drive off without him.

He'd lost some precious time after Daniel had walked out the door. Clearly bewildered, Adam had let Daniel's money fall in a fluttering wake as he strode toward the door too, definitely intent on following their little brother.

And despite wanting nothing more than to go after Daniel too, Crane had been forced to take the time to stop Adam. Practically diving in front of him to block the door. He knew Adam was still oblivious, didn't truly understand what had happened or the hurt he'd inflicted. And until he was aware of all of the facts, Crane was convinced Adam would only succeed in making matters worse.

Crane never should have agreed to keeping quiet about Daniel's success at The Brick Walk. It wasn't the same as staying silent about the kid's audition with Jimmy Travallo. Back then, despite being impressed enough to offer advice and promise Daniel another try-out in the fall, since the agent hadn't exactly handed him a recording contract, Crane had agreed to the silence. Adam's focus had been on Evan's recovery, as it should have been. There was little point in sharing what had amounted to _not news_ with him, especially knowing that it would likely only irritate their eldest.

If Adam had known about the house-band gig though, he might've never pulled anything as bone-headed as booking the kid elsewhere without consulting him. Let alone booking him for a teenage girl's birthday party.

Then again, Adam often had blinders on when it came to carrying out their parents' legacy and wanting to fulfill their dream of running a prosperous cattle ranch.

He could be awfully single-minded when he was worried about one of the boys too.

"Out of my way, Crane." It hadn't been a request and Crane had bristled at Adam's tone. It was the same one he'd used with Daniel that had helped set the kid off so badly.

"Why? So you can make damn sure he never comes back!"

When Crane had thrown those words at him, Adam had looked so stricken, so shocked, Crane had almost regretted them. Almost. Sometimes you needed to hit a McFadden with a two-by-four in order to get through to them and Adam was far from an exception to that rule.

Unfortunately Daniel fell into that category too which meant Crane hadn't had any time for subtleties. Besides, he was angry with Adam, maybe even more than Daniel was. Certainly angry enough to not pull any punches. "If anyone's going to convince him to come home tonight, it's me. Not you. So let go... _now!_"

Whether it had been Crane's aggressive tone or the dawning realization of what had actually transpired this evening that had made Adam relent and move out of the way, Crane didn't know. Didn't care. His only mission had been to catch up to Daniel before he took off.

But Daniel wasn't leaving. The kid had loaded the guitar and his duffel bag but hadn't climbed into the Jeep. He was leaning on its hood. Waiting for Crane.

Good. There was still hope.

"Hey, wasn't sure you'd wait." Crane tried to sound casual as he approached. Though Daniel was clearly waiting for him, Crane could see that the kid was strung tight, ready to bolt like a cornered animal. Crane was going to have to tread lightly.

The tactic worked and Daniel sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. Absently smoothing a hand atop the Jeep's hood, he answered with a shrug. "Yeah, well, someone has to drive this thing back here tonight."

Crane felt his stomach flip. Daniel sounded miserable but resolute. He didn't plan on coming home. Crane's hope was fading fast.

Except McFaddens weren't quitters. And if there was one thing Crane was an expert at, it was in knowing how to handle Daniel. There was no point arguing with him right now. Daniel was too hurt and too angry to be reasoned with. But the fact that he hadn't yet gotten in behind the wheel told Crane that Daniel needed to talk.

And Crane was an expert listener too.

Moving in to stand next to him, their backs to the Jeep now, Crane lightly bumped the kid's shoulder. "Where're you gonna stay tonight? With one of the guys?"

"Yeah; Red, likely."

Good. Though Crane's intent was to convince Daniel to come home tonight, Red would be his preferred alternative if he failed. He'd be supportive of Daniel but had a good head on his shoulders and knew the importance of family. He and his girlfriend Gina were even getting married this fall.

"And then what?" Crane hoped he kept any hint of judgment or doubt out of his voice. He needed Daniel to work this out for himself. To realize if nothing else that being penniless was no way to start off on your own.

Daniel shrugged again, dragged the toe of his boot along the gravel beneath their feet before meeting Crane's gaze. "I'll go see Walt tomorrow. See if I can bunk at his shop."

Crane's stomach flipped again. He'd forgotten about Walt Henry. Whenever Crane ran into him in town, the mechanic would be quick to remind him that the offer he'd made Daniel still stood.

After having worked together on the Mustang Adam had driven in the county's Gold Rush race, Walt had offered Daniel an apprenticeship. But, Daniel had declined. Between school, his music and his responsibilities to the ranch, he simply didn't have time to commit to an apprenticeship too.

_His responsibilities to the ranch. _

The ones the kid had just abdicated.

"Remember? I stayed there when I was working on the Mustang," Daniel clarified needlessly, oblivious to the turmoil in Crane's heart. "The shop's got a decent cot. Even has a john with a shower."

As Daniel spoke, Crane could tell that this idea hadn't just popped into the kid's head. He'd already been thinking about it for a while. And was definitely warming to the idea. And why not? Walt's place was within walking distance to school and was closer to the guys in his band than the ranch was. It would be ideal.

Except it wouldn't be home.

"You think he'd let me build a car out of some of the wrecks in his yard?"

So much for letting Daniel work this out on his own. This was backfiring on Crane royally.

"No!" Crane blurted before recovering with, "I mean-don't you think you're getting a little ahead of yourself?"

Daniel couldn't have missed the initial panic in Crane's voice but apparently chose to ignore it. "Nah, you don't know him like I do. I bet he would."

"You know that's not what I meant." Sliding his arm behind Daniel's back, Crane guided the kid around to face him. "You can't leave. Not like this." Crane's voice was cracking and he let it, didn't fight his welling tears either. "We can work this out."

Daniel shook his head and Crane watched as the boy's eyes filled too, his air of indifference evaporating. "No, we can't," he said helplessly. "I can't do this anymore. I feel chained up here and sometimes they're so tight…it's so bad I can't even breathe." As if to prove his point, Daniel's voice hitched and a few tears even began to spill.

"Then let me breathe for you," Crane soothed, drawing his brother into his chest and under his chin. "Let me figure this out. I'll work some more on Adam." Daniel sobbed once and then wrapped his arms around Crane's waist. Crane just held him tight, swaying slightly back and forth like he used to when they were little.

After a minute or two, he felt Daniel gather himself, straightening up within his hold. Crane reluctantly relaxed his arms too but didn't let go entirely. Daniel pulled away though, swiping at his eyes before aiming them at Crane, hope and defeat shining in their red-rimmed depths.

"You shouldn't have to fight my battles for me. I can look after myself."

"I know," Crane was quick to agree, despite the fact that Daniel's tear-stained face, red nose and mussed hair made him look all of eight and not eighteen. "But you're wrong about having to fight your battles on your own. I'm your big brother; it's my job to have your back."

"Yeah, but you're _his_ little brother," Daniel replied glumly.

"Not your problem," Crane responded though immediately ducked his head at Daniel's snort. Okay, so maybe he was wrong about that. Still, Daniel's battles would always be Crane's too.

Though this moment between them wasn't playing out the way Crane had planned, he was infinitely relieved that the end result was still the same. Daniel was calmer now; possibly more willing to listen to reason.

"Look, I know tonight was bad - really bad - but, that's exactly why you shouldn't make any drastic decisions right now, all right? He hurt you and—" Daniel started to protest and Crane immediately regretted his choice of words. Daniel might be more rational right now but he was still eighteen. Expecting him to admit that his feelings had been hurt was asking too much. "I know, I know, sorry… he pissed you off," Crane amended. "But that's the whole point. We're talking about your future here and making any life-altering decisions right now, while you're in this frame of mind, would be a huge mistake."

Crane held his breath, hoping like hell Daniel wasn't going to take anything he'd just said the wrong way.

Daniel dropped his gaze again and Crane resisted the impulse to card his hand through his hair. "You accusin' me of being impulsive?" The kid softly asked but, even with his head lowered, Crane could tell Daniel wasn't offended, was in fact pulling his big brother's leg.

"What? You? Never," he replied with a smirk, unable to resist any longer and ruffling the kid's already disheveled hair before pulling him in for another hug. Daniel didn't resist, even huffed out a light laugh before Crane whispered into his ear. "Just promise me you'll come home tonight. We can work it all out tomorrow, okay?"

Crane felt Daniel nod against his shoulder but he needed more. He needed that promise. Loosening his hold, he kept his hands on the kid's shoulders. "Say it out loud. Promise me you're coming home tonight," he outright demanded, leveling his eyes at Daniel.

"Okay, I promise," Daniel said without a whole lot of enthusiasm. That was okay though; the kid still would never break it. "But I need one from you too."

"Anything. You know that."

Daniel actually winced and Crane couldn't help but wonder if he'd answered too hastily. Knew he had when Daniel softy asked him, "If things go south with Adam tomorrow, will you drive me over to Walt's?"

"Yeah, sure; of course I will," Crane replied after a moment's hesitation, praying his voice hadn't betrayed how hellishly difficult it had been to say those words.

With Daniel's request, it had dawned on Crane - or slammed into him with the force of a wrecking ball - that the kid was simply humoring him and hadn't changed his mind at all about leaving home. After all, the McFaddens' temperamental middle son should have been teenage _"angsting" _about the injustice of it all, about how Adam just didn't get him, and about being old enough to dictate his own life. This was a free country, after all. That was the norm, the way his rants had been ever since the last roundup when Adam had insisted Daniel join them instead of staying home and practicing for the Travallo audition.

But none of that was happening right now. Though Crane had at first been pleased about Daniel's relative calm, he realized now that the kid was being too calm. And that what he'd said to Crane upstairs… _"It's done",_ he still meant.

Daniel was beyond ranting. He was dictating his own life.

But it was too soon. Leaving home was one thing but Crane knew full well that the call of the music industry would be irresistible to his little brother. Without home to anchor him, Daniel would be gone in a flash. And though others had done it before him, the boy was still too young and too naïve to head down to L.A. on his own. Of that Crane was sure. Daniel didn't know how to protect himself from the likes of the agents or managers who'd take one look at his face and try to make a fortune off of it. Marketing him as the next teen idol instead of the next Jackson Browne or Bruce Springsteen he longed to be. And though Daniel understood better than most kids what it meant to struggle financially, he still didn't really know a damn thing about business or budgeting and Crane wanted to impart that knowledge before his little brother struck out on his own.

Crane was working on it. Being party to Crane and Mike Talbot hashing out and signing the contract at The Brick Walk had been eye-opening for Daniel. But the fact that Daniel still preferred to keep his savings in an old wooden box instead of the bank had been equally so for Crane.

Though he genuinely believed Daniel had the talent for success, Crane felt just as fervently that his brother needed to grow up some more first. Otherwise, he'd get eaten alive.

And Crane would be damned before he'd let that happen.

"You sure?" Daniel asked and Crane had to work his way back through his musings to remember what he'd just agreed to.

Oh, right… driving him to Walt's.

Not if Crane could help it.

"Yeah, I'm sure," Crane replied. He wasn't lying. Only, he planned on doing everything in his power first to prevent that drive from happening. Slinging an arm around Daniel's shoulder he ushered him around to the driver's seat. "Let's not count our chickens yet though, okay? Let me work on Adam."

Daniel looked skeptical but ultimately nodded before realization finally struck. "Wait, you're not coming?"

Crane shook his head, indicating the house with a tilt of his head. "I'm gonna stay. You've got your job and I've got mine, remember? Let me go lay down some groundwork with the big cheese."

Daniel looked like he was going to object, maybe start in again about Crane not fighting his battles for him. Instead, he blurted out, "But you're gonna miss Stacy's last night."

Crane almost laughed. Leave it to his big-hearted kid brother to think of someone else in the midst of his own crisis.

Stasia Prokop was a bartender at The Brick Walk and had been a warm and welcoming fixture in the place ever since Daniel had started playing there. Crane had to admit he'd been surprised and even a little disappointed when Daniel had come home last night with the news that the girl had given her notice to Mike earlier in the week. With the Bartons' visit and everything that had followed, Crane had forgotten that her last shift was tonight. According to Daniel, Mike was planning a little send-off for "Stacy".

With that in mind, he was briefly tempted to join Daniel. He tried to tell himself it was solely so that he could drive his brother home after what would undoubtedly be an even later Friday night than usual. Truth was, he actually really liked Stacy and hated not being there to say good-bye.

He also couldn't help but wonder why she was leaving. He'd hoped, based on his frequent talks with the girl that she was going back to school. But Daniel had said she'd seemed subdued last night, not herself, though he didn't know why.

Crane sighed. Stacy wasn't his business. But Daniel very much was. "Just tell her I'm sorry I missed her send-off and give her my best, okay?"

"Your best is precisely what she wants, big bro, but that's not exactly something I can give her," the kid said shamelessly as he climbed into the Jeep. And Crane's cheeks burned, even as he cuffed his brother in the back of the head. The moment of levity ended though when Daniel abruptly asked with genuine concern, "You think she might be running from something?"

Crane shrugged his shoulders. He'd had the same thought. "I don't know; maybe but..." Though he'd definitely been attracted to Stacy and enjoyed flirting with her, he'd resisted her not so subtle advances. There was something lurking in the girl's striking blue eyes that told him northern California would never be her permanent home. He'd already been through that heartache when Molly hadn't come home for Christmas and again during this past Spring Break. He wasn't about to put his heart on the line once more with Stacy. Besides, "Running's never the answer."

Daniel suddenly looked stricken and quickly looked away from Crane. Staring out through the windshield instead he nearly whispered, "Maybe sometimes it is."

He sounded so broken and Crane wanted desperately to reassure him. Reaching out and lightly cupping the kid's cheek, Crane solemnly promised, "Hey, it's gonna be okay."

"Yeah, I know."

His kid brother huffed out a soft breath, Crane feeling its warmth against his wrist before Daniel's lost expression and his next, wistful, distant words froze his blood with dread.

"Starting tomorrow… it will be."

.

_To be continued._

_._

_**End-notes:**__ Though only Red is addressed by name in the episode, __**"The Election"**__, Daniel's fellow band members are all named in an early version of its script as Cory, Sam, and the aforementioned Red. I'll be using those names in this and any future stories that might include or reference these characters._


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's notes: **Thanks to Katt for the suggestions that greatly improved this chapter and for tonight's last minute input. I'd also like to thank the guest readers whose reviews for this story and **After the Bitter Season** I can't respond to personally. I greatly appreciate each and every one of those reviews.  
Though this chapter has a fair bit of Vince in it, hopefully the drama unfolding under the McFadden roof will balance it and that both story threads will keep you engaged.  
**Warnings:** Beyond salty language and adult, potentially triggery themes.

* * *

**Chapter 3 **

Vince pulled in and parked beside the Plymouth Duster, taking a deep calming breath. His hands were still shaking from his near accident; hell his whole body was jittery. Using his jumpiness as his incentive, he reached over to the glove-compartment and popped it open.

Eyeing his prize, he stopped himself from claiming it. Leaning back against the bench seat instead, he closed his eyes, breathed some more.

He didn't want to take anything yet. The supply was his to sell - mostly - not to use up all on his own. Besides, what he'd snorted back in town should've lasted him. He was coming down already though, he realized ruefully. Damn that corner. And his adrenaline rush. He'd pretty much wasted that hit.

Stacy was worth it though.

He angled the rear-view mirror to get a good look at himself. Glad that he had. His hair was a mess and that was unacceptable. Vince needed to look his best for his girl.

He almost missed the touch of blood beneath his nose and congratulated himself for catching it in time. He didn't remember hitting anything when the truck had come to its abrupt stop in the ditch but he must have. He definitely needed to clean that up and scrambled to find some Kleenex, using it and a dab of spit to wipe the evidence away. He knew Stacy would overreact if she saw it. She'd blame the coke even though Vince knew it wasn't the cause.

He wasn't using all that much, certainly not enough to do any damage to his nose for Christ's sake. He had everything under control. Now it was time to prove it to her.

Climbing out of the Ram, he bent low and took another look at himself in the side mirror. Smiling self-assuredly he made his way to the front door and knocked.

He was met with silence and after a couple more attempts Vince decided to lean on the door-bell instead.

Still no answer.

The bitch was ignoring him.

He didn't mean that. Of course he didn't. It was just… sometimes his temper got the best of him and he really didn't appreciate the games Stacy was playing. Like when she'd stopped working at that joint in Modesto without telling him. It had taken him over three months to find her in Stockton. Even Vince had to laugh at the irony. After all, he conducted quite a lot of _business _there.

Including just recently starting to sell dime bags in the alley just down from the back of The Brick Walk.

The look on her face when he'd walked into the club had been memorable. After so many weeks he'd almost forgotten how smoking hot she was. The disbelief in those gorgeous eyes and even the hint of tears only added to her beauty. He almost felt bad for catching her off guard like that. Admittedly, he'd have called her at home first to let her know he was coming by but, for some reason he hadn't been able to track down her number.

Finding Stacy hadn't just been destiny, luck had something to do with it too. Thanks to some of his regulars wanting to meet up in the alley just beyond the club's back parking lot, Vince had spotted her car. The Duster had been conveniently parked in a section marked "Employees Only" so, even though Vince hadn't been able to find a home number for her, he'd easily looked up her work number. He'd tried calling too but, they'd been disconnected before she could even finish talking to him. Remembering Stacy's hushed request for him not to call her anymore, he'd kept his cool. It had pissed him off but, he also understood her situation. After all, taking personal calls at work could jeopardize her job. Vince respected that. He could only assume that her prick of a boss or that ape of a bouncer had cut off their call before she could give him her home number.

So, really, his only option had been to show up there in person.

Vince knew the moment their eyes had met that Stacy was thrilled to see him. Those joyful tears had told him so. Despite her surprise, she'd been friendly, even as she asked him to leave. She'd kept darting her gaze over to that bouncer though and Vince couldn't help but feel sorry for his girl. He knew how strapped for cash she was and hadn't wanted to get her in trouble with her boss. So, after chugging back a beer, he'd promised to leave. Though Stacy's smile was tight, the relief he had seen in her eyes told him he'd made her happy. And that made Vince happy.

Only problem, that damn bouncer had escorted Vince out of the place, all the way to the truck. And before Vince had even been able to get Stacy's phone number.

He'd tried again Tuesday but that time it was the ape _and_ her boss who wouldn't even allow him into the place. Vince had been furious but figured he didn't really have any other recourse that wouldn't result in Stacy getting fired.

And, though it pained him to admit it, since he _was_ between 'legit' jobs right now and didn't have much of his gran's money left, they were going to need Stacy's steady income to help make ends meet.

So, he'd decided to lay low for one day and then he showed up at the bar again yesterday. There'd been a crowded line-up to get into the place though, something he hadn't expected, not to mention a cover charge. Apparently Thursday night was "Ladies' Night". Vince had hoped he might be able to disappear amongst the throng but, once he'd caught sight of that bouncer manning the doors, he'd known he was screwed.

It was why Vince had decided he'd have to meet up with Stacy here at her home. So, after patiently waiting in the parking lot until she'd left the club last night, he'd followed her home. Here. Well, as far as that turn into her driveway anyway. He'd known approaching her well after midnight, after she'd been on her feet all night, wouldn't have gone over well. He was considerate like that after all, which was why he'd headed back to the motel.

But now he was back, while it was still daylight, and he couldn't fight the grin splitting his face in anticipation of seeing Stacy again. Knowing how excited she was going to be to see him now, Vince laughed damn near giddily. He couldn't wait to surprise her again, confident that this reunion would be the next step in their future together.

* * *

With a heavy heart, Crane watched as Daniel drove the Jeep away from the house. That sense of dread enveloping him with the realization that returning the vehicle to them might well be the only reason the kid would be coming home tonight. Daniel might not have packed up all his belongings yet but Crane truly feared that mentally and emotionally, the boy was already gone.

God, could Adam have screwed things up any worse?

Okay, so that wasn't entirely fair. After all, Daniel's silence about his earnings - and Crane's complicity in it - hadn't helped. Still, between Adam's dig about the tractor, the lack of respect he showed in not checking first before agreeing to anything with Wheeler, not to mention how degrading the gig itself was to an up-and-comer like Daniel, well, Adam had a hell of a lot to atone for.

If it was even possible.

Crane shook his head. Of course it was possible. Adam and Daniel loved each other. They'd figure this out and finally come to an agreement that would give Daniel more freedom to pursue his music. They had to. Because whether the eighteen year-old changed his mind about moving out tomorrow didn't matter. Daniel had already taken his first steps toward independence tonight and there would be no turning back the clock. So, if it took him all night, Crane was going to get that message through to Adam. And Brian.

Except he didn't have all night. Shit, Crane had completely forgotten that Adam and Hannah were going out. They'd not only agreed to chaperone the school dance, they were also Evan and Ford's ride home. Crap. Checking his watch now, Crane definitely regretted not going along with Daniel. After all, what good could a half hour with Adam possibly do?

Still, he had to try.

He carried that heightened sense of urgency with him as he made his way back up the porch steps. He tried to leave his anger and frustration behind but, when he walked through the door he felt those heated emotions breach the surface once again. Adam looked irritated, not contrite. If there was any worry in his heart, it was being overshadowed by stubbornness and pride.

And Brian, well, he was busily thumbing through the cash he must have gathered up off the floor. Obviously counting Daniel's savings, he appeared both impressed and even a little amused as he looked up from the money and met Crane's gaze. It was the pleased smirk he wore that set Crane's hackles to rising. But it was what Brian said wearing it that pushed Crane over the edge.

"Looks like the kid's been holding out on us."

Crane lost it. All the worry, frustration and fear bubbling under his skin had found its outlet. And a target. In a flash he had hold of Brian, vaguely aware of Daniel's money sailing through the air once more as Brian landed with a grunt on the nearest piece of furniture. Crane was on top of him, their long legs in a tangle over the back of the couch.

Crane only had a moment to register the shock on Brian's face when strong arms gripped him from behind and hauled him off and away from his brother.

"Have you lost your mind?" Adam was shouting at him and Crane didn't resist as their eldest whirled him around so that they were face to face. "That's your brother, for God's sake!" His volume remained high despite Hannah's protests.

"Adam calm down," Hannah insisted as she insinuated herself between them. "This isn't helping."

Only maybe it was. If Adam hadn't grabbed hold of him, Crane might have actually punched Brian. He realized now that Brian had probably only been joking, trying to lighten the moment when he'd made that crack about Daniel's money. Not even Brian was that crass.

With that realization, Crane suddenly felt empty. Whether Adam felt the abrupt change too Crane couldn't be sure but big brother did let him go. And Crane promptly found himself hunched over, his hands braced against his knees as he sucked in some much needed air.

It only took a minute for him to regain his breath, Hannah rubbing his back helping to settle still tingling nerves. When he straightened up he finally saw the worry he'd been expecting in Adam's features but Crane had to tamp down the resultant flicker of anger. Didn't Adam realize he was worried about the wrong brother?

"Crane, what's going on? What's gotten into you?" Adam asked. His volume was down now, the tone strained.

"I'll tell you what's going on," Crane began, hating that his own voice was so shaky. "I have a little brother getting ready to walk out the door for good and an oblivious older brother too stubborn to see that, admit he was wrong, and fix this!"

"We need him to sing for Cleo, Crane." Adam said firmly, not even addressing the threat of Daniel leaving home.

"No we don't." Crane's temper was rising again. Indicating the money still strewn about the floor and couch, he continued. "Hell, he just gave you more than enough to lease a couple of bulls if we wanted to. You don't need Danny." Christ, Daniel had just given the family every cent he had yet Adam still expected him to perform like a circus dog anyway?

"Cash wasn't the arrangement," Adam replied tightly. His voice was off and that, plus the strain in his features, was revealing something Crane couldn't quite put his finger on.

He just couldn't figure out why Adam was being so pig-headed about this. Wasn't it obvious that agreeing to a gig without consulting Daniel was wrong? Adam knew damn well the kid worked Saturdays. And performing at a party for Cleo, the girl Ford had a crush on? Christ, there was nothing even remotely right about this.

Adam knew all that, he _had_ to, and that infuriated Crane as much as it confounded him. Was his brother that blinded by his animosity toward Russ Wheeler? Would he willingly demean Daniel just because they had something Wheeler would for once be willing to beg for?

Crane understood the temptation. He had a healthy loathing for Wheeler too. They all did. After all, the man was responsible for the death of their bull and for many years he'd caused their family plenty of anxiety every time he came sniffing around their property. But thanks to Hannah, they'd gotten their revenge _and_ a great bull.

Albeit a young one.

Its bloodline had proven to be a good cross with the Circle-Bar-Seven herd. But he was much younger than the bull they'd lost. Conventional wisdom, not to mention Crane's animal husbandry classes, dictated that in order to keep him healthy and viable, he should cover only about a third of their breeding stock during a single breeding season. Crane knew that Russ had purchased more mature bulls from that same line for his Far Valley brand and Adam knew it too. Just one of them could handle the remainder of their cows.

But thanks to Daniel's money, leasing one instead was possible. Wheeler would never turn down McFadden cash. Hell, he'd probably put it behind glass and frame it.

And that was the crux of it, wasn't it?

Crane looked at Adam again, really looked at him and, this time, he recognized it.

_Cash wasn't the arrangement._

Adam was embarrassed. Pure and simple.

"I can't believe you," Crane started. "You already know you're in the wrong here, don't you?" He didn't wait for an answer, though he did feel a minute sense of satisfaction when he saw his brother flinch. "You just can't stand the idea of crawling back to Wheeler with your tail between your legs and telling him you messed up."

At least Adam had the decency to look uncomfortable. Crossing his arms defensively, Adam swallowed hard before answering. "A man's only as good as his word, Crane."

Crane ran a shaky hand through his hair. Though his assumption was right, he didn't feel any true sense of vindication. God, what a mess this was. "Yeah, well, most men are only human and humans make mistakes, Adam."

"C'mon, Crane. Adam made a deal." Brian insisted, his tone as sharp as his glare. Crane wasn't surprised that Brian was backing Adam up on this. No one hated Wheeler like he did.

Still, hadn't they covered this already when Daniel was still in the room? "And so did Daniel, remember? With his band and The Brick Walk." Crane sighed. He wasn't getting anywhere. It was time to come clean. "Look, Daniel was going to let you guys know this on Sunday but, the band's doing really well over there."

"No shit," Brian said, indicating all the cash Hannah had begun to collect together. Crane knew she was intently listening to them though. No doubt waiting to offer input when it was needed. Either that or try to keep them from killing each other.

"Yeah, well that's mostly because they've gotten really, really good," Crane replied, not holding back his pride. "But it also has a little to do with the contract I worked out for them. They're the official house-band. It's a good deal."

"Why in the hell would you let him sign a contract?" Adam asked, and Crane could tell his oldest brother was struggling to keep his temper in check. "You know how busy we get this time of year. Just how long is it for?"

Crane could feel the heat rising in his face and in his chest. He hated that he was being put on the defensive over this. "Until August twenty-seventh," He snapped, knowing in advance that neither Adam nor Brian would take the news well.

Brian looked like he wanted to hit something. Most likely Crane. "Are you nuts? All summer?"

"Yes, all summer. That was the whole point." Crane shook his head. He really was going to have to spell this out for them. "Look, it's only going to be a matter of time before the band splits up." He raised his hand forestalling any interruptions. "Cory's decided to go back to school in the fall; Red and Gina are getting married and talking about starting a family right away and Sam, well, without the other guys, he just doesn't really have the ambition to continue."

Having set the money down in a neat pile on the coffee table, Hannah rejoined them. "They're going their separate ways, no matter what," she said softly, and Crane knew that his sister-in-law was catching on.

"Right, but this job is keeping them together even after Daniel graduates - at least until September anyway," he explained. "None of them want to pass up the money and, as long as they're together, Daniel's not looking anywhere else."

"Like Los Angeles," Hannah said; her insight right on the mark.

Brian outright snorted and Crane immediately decided he'd had just about enough of that attitude. Brian had been burdened with so much responsibility at sixteen. Of all of the McFaddens, their second oldest should have been sympathetic to how torn Daniel was. How heavily the weight of responsibility to the ranch hung on all of their shoulders. But Brian was a rancher through and through, just like their dad. Maybe that's why he couldn't take Daniel's dreams of moving to L.A. seriously.

"Yes, L.A.," Crane replied bitingly. "Only I was hoping to put that off as long as possible and not have him take off the minute school was over, especially since he can't stand living under-"

He cut himself off. Not because he didn't want to hurt his older brothers' feelings. Crane was beyond caring about that right now. He just couldn't bring himself to say the words. To admit the possibility that Daniel might leave the protection of not just their home but of damn near an entire community, and dive into the shark infested waters of L.A.'s music scene. Hannah squeezed his hand though and with her gentle strength prompting him, and the sinking belief that Daniel planned on taking those first steps to freedom tomorrow, he realized that he had to continue. "Look, don't you get it? I've been trying with everything I have to hang onto Daniel as long as I can; to keep him from walking out that door-" His voice began to crack and Crane didn't fight it. "-before he's really ready, you know? And you…you didn't just open that door for him tonight… you shoved him right through it!"

"Now, hold on a minute," Brian objected. "Just how in the hell does Adam getting Dan'l a singing job amount to shoving the kid out the door? You said it yourself; we didn't know about the contract in Stockton."

God, could Brian be obtuse at times. Crane wanted to scream. Or cry.

Before Crane could answer, Adam interjected. "Yeah, damn it. I got him a job playing his precious music." He was looking at Hannah now. "Isn't that what you wanted? For me to show him some support?"

_His precious music._

Was Crane ever glad that Daniel hadn't been around to hear the condescension in Adam's voice just then.

"Oh, Adam, we do want that," Hannah replied. "Only-"

"Only what? At least singing at Wheeler's he's near home, not the next county over."

That jab was meant for Crane, as was the glare Adam sent his way. Crane dropped his head; Adam still wasn't getting the big picture. At all.

"You think I _want_ him playing in Stockton? Making that drive at night?" Crane asked incredulously.

"I don't call what you're doing… bending over backwards in order for him to play there… exactly trying all that hard to hang onto him." And now Brian was throwing Crane's words back at him. Every bit as clueless as Adam.

"It _is_ when the next step is eight counties and 350 miles away," Crane replied bitterly.

Brian just scoffed again. "Oh, come on. That kid's not going to L.A."

"Of course he's not," Adam agreed, sounding confident and exactly like the domineering _'Dad'_ Daniel sometimes accused him of being. Adam was still in denial, Brian too. Both of them refusing to see that their brother's childhood hobby was in fact his intended vocation. Both refusing to believe that not every McFadden had dreams of settling down on a section of Circle-Bar-Seven land. With such headstrong and unyielding opposition, it was no wonder Daniel was at the end of his tether and losing his temper so much these days. Lord knew Crane was too.

"He is, damn it!" Crane shouted, trying to rein in the anger that had driven him to tackle Brian only minutes earlier. "Leaving home anyway. Didn't you see his bag? He's already started to pack."

"What?"

"No way."

"Oh, honey, no!"

Crane was shaking. He really hated losing control like that. Hannah, bless her, knew it too and had wrapped both arms around his elbow. He was grateful for her tenderness and support and, instead of coming apart like he thought he would, he allowed himself to relax in her hold. They were listening now.

Finally.

Addressing Brian first, Crane answered scathingly, "Yes way." He dropped the sarcasm when he continued. "He wants me to give him a lift into town - to go over and see Walt."

"Walt? Why?" Brian asked and Crane could tell that his brother was suddenly bristling; both realization and his protective instincts setting in.

Walt Henry wasn't the enemy though.

Adam would know that. Knew it every bit as much as Crane did that Walt wouldn't say no to the boy either though. "The room in his shop," Their eldest answered soberly. Swallowing hard, he asked Crane. "What about school?"

"He'll stick it out." Crane was sure of it, even if the kid wouldn't apply himself particularly well. Knew Walt would want that for him too. "He'll finish out the contract in Stockton too." Crane looked at Adam then, could see that stark reality had at last somehow set in. Crane never thought of himself as the kind of person to kick someone when they were down but he couldn't help himself. "He's a man of his word." Adam looked crushed, looked worse when Crane added, "You taught him that."

Not surprisingly Hannah let go of Crane and went to her husband. Adam looked positively numb when she slipped under his arm and slid her fingers through his. Squeezing his hand she drew Adam's attention to her and told him, "It's not too late, Adam. You can fix this. You know you can."

"Can I?" Adam answered roughly. He was looking directly at Crane though, not Hannah.

"You have to," Crane said, desperation creeping into his voice.

He let it go there. Though there was a lot more he wanted to discuss with Adam about Daniel and his music, now was not the time. Adam and Hannah had to go out, still had to get changed yet and Brian had to get ready for his date too. Crane was confident he'd made some headway with both older brothers though and would have to be satisfied with that little victory for now. Besides, he knew that, despite everyone's respective plans for the evening, there would only be one thing, one brother, on all of their minds. And with that many McFaddens working toward a solution, Crane had to believe that they'd come up with the right words to keep Daniel home at least a little while longer.

* * *

With no answer at the door, frustration and just a hint of suspicion were getting the best of him, so Vince decided to take a look around the perimeter of the house, maybe get a look inside.

Noiselessly rounding the corner opposite the driveway side of the bungalow and making his way into the backyard, he couldn't have been more surprised to discover Stacy in his sights. Her arms loaded with an obviously heavy cardboard box, ascending a set of concrete steps at the back of the house.

Of course, Vince realized, feeling a little foolish; a walk-up entrance. The house wasn't Stacy's… she was living in a basement apartment.

Surprise quickly turned to confusion though when he watched her head toward a small utility trailer. It was already loaded with other boxes and, if he didn't know any better, he'd think she was moving. She couldn't possibly be leaving though. After all, they'd just found each other again.

As Stacy hefted the box over the side of the trailer, Vince began his approach, calling out, "Whatcha doin' there, Stace?"

She actually screamed.

And Vince immediately felt awful. He'd just scared the shit out of his girlfriend. The last thing he'd ever want to do.

Again.

Rushing toward her to make amends, he cursed himself as she abruptly backed up against the tail-gate and almost fell. Realizing he was making matters worse, he pulled up short. "Hey, take it easy, it's just me," he said, raising his hands in surrender and giving her his best smile. "I come in peace."

The joke didn't get the desired response – he'd been hoping for a smile too, maybe even a laugh – but at least she didn't appear utterly terrified anymore. Stacy still looked ashen though, like the other night in the bar come to think of it, her midnight blues just as huge. Fuck. This was not at all how he'd planned this encounter to go.

He dropped his hands and backed up another step.

"Damn it, I'm sorry, Stace," he apologized, knowing that he sounded as miserable as he felt. "You know I didn't mean to scare you."

Her expression changed then, the fear dissipating into something that looked more like frustration. "What are you doing here, Vince?" She sounded strained, even more so when she breathlessly asked, "How did you find me?"

"I followed you here last night," Vince replied matter-of-factly. He could've sworn Stacy gasped a little in response; she certainly looked shocked. Abruptly realizing that the admission could be misconstrued as creepy, he defended himself. "Hey, I didn't have a choice. Between your boss and that fucking bouncer, they were never gonna let me back inside to get your number."

"My number?" Stacy practically choked out. "You've got to be—" She stopped mid-sentence and didn't say anything else; just shook her head in what looked something like defeat and dropped her gaze. But not before Vince caught a glimpse of the tears welling in her eyes.

"Hey, it's okay," Vince soothed, moving in and gently grasping her wrist. She bristled though and tried to pull away. "I said, _it's okay_," he repeated, harsher this time. He was truly growing tired of her games. He'd apologized after all. What more did she want from him? And now, thanks to her struggling, he'd had to tighten his grip and that made her hiss. Well, he wasn't going to blame himself. If that had hurt her, it was her own goddamn fault.

He let her go anyway.

Stacy immediately clasped her wrist and began rubbing it. She was definitely pulling out all the stops; trying to play the sympathy card now. He wasn't going to fall for it. He'd done that before when he had so-called _hurt_ her and look where that had gotten him… he'd given Stacy the space she'd asked for and she'd _thanked_ him by leaving town.

Ungrateful bitch.

Speaking of taking off… he returned his attention to the contents of the trailer and felt his hackles rise.

Though he'd only been to her apartment in Modesto once, he clearly recognized the trailer's contents. He might not know what was inside those boxes but, the burnt orange portable TV, the second-hand three legged table and, the smoked glass stereo cabinet all belonged to her.

Vince didn't want to believe it but the evidence was staring him in the face.

He snorted in disgust. As if he had the time or patience to chase her all over California again just because she liked to play hard to get.

He carried the disgust with him when he met her gaze. Good, she looked more wary now. More compliant. She clearly knew he meant business. Maybe he could finally get some answers.

No more games.

"Goin' somewhere?" Vince asked, not trying to hide his impatience or the anger igniting within his veins.

"I—" She stammered, not looking Vince in the eye. That only succeeded in annoying him further though and he moved in again. Grabbing both wrists this time.

She'd brought this on herself. He'd never hit her before. Never needed to but, well, there was always a first time for everything. "You, what?" he sneered, constricting his hold and pulling her closer.

"Vince, please," She practically whimpered; her words and tone empowering him and turning him on now.

"Please?" He said seductively. "You want something from your man, sweetheart?"

"No!" She practically yelped and her struggles took on a whole new dimension. Vince was enjoying it; more than he could have ever imagined. At least until she kneed him in the motherfucking nuts.

"You bitch!" he roared as she slipped away from his hold.

Vince folded to the ground; his brain telling him to lunge for her, go after her but his body had other plans. Shutting down plans. He had a vague awareness of running footsteps, a screen door opening and closing and another heavier door banging shut. But all he could do was breathe.

Correction: try to.

His vision came back along with his wits and it was the latter that told him he'd better get up. He had no idea how long he'd been writhing on the ground: minutes or mere seconds? He supposed it didn't matter. He'd blown it with Stacy; lost his cool and knew that there was no way in hell she'd be willing to work this out between them tonight.

With a groan, he shakily pulled himself up onto his elbows and looked over at the bungalow. And saw no signs of life. No sign of Stacy. The blinds were drawn and not an ounce of artificial light was seeping through. He was sure she was still in there though.

A part of him wanted nothing more than to break down that door and take her away with him. Take what was his. But, he had enough sense to realize that caving in her landlord's door could get him into a world of shit he didn't need. So, instead he staggered to his feet and stumbled toward his goal.

At the bottom of the steps, he winced at the screech of metal as he pulled the screen door open and exposed the wooden one behind it. Jiggled its brass handle on a whim, not at all surprised that it was locked. Resigned, he knocked on the door.

"Please go away, Vince. Leave me alone."

He supposed he should've been irritated. By her words and that muffled, mewling tone. Another man – a weaker one – might've felt sympathetic. Hell, at any other time Vince would've been horribly annoyed. Now though, he felt another rush in his loins, one that hurt goddamn it thanks to her knee.

She was right there; on the other side of the door. And he wanted her.

"Now, you don't mean that, sweetheart. I know you don't."

"I've called the cops, Vince. They're on the way." she abruptly said and Vince took a startled step back from the door. Stacy's voice still sounded shaky but he heard a conviction in it too. Still, he couldn't imagine the law coming all the way out here just for a measly little lovers' spat. After all, the police had plenty of other things to arrest people for.

Shit.

Like the stash Vince kept in his glove-compartment.

He couldn't risk it. He had enough cocaine in his truck to put him in prison.

Leaning into the door, he pressed the side of his face against the wood, feeling its grain against his cheek, and felt oddly emboldened by its solidity. "This isn't over, Stacy. _We're_ not over."

Nothing would keep them apart.

* * *

It hadn't taken long for Adam and Hannah to get ready. Neither of them had gotten gussied up like they usually did on nights like this. Though they were just chaperoning for teenagers, Adam and Hannah went out so seldom, they usually treated these dances like a night on the town. Crane felt a little guilty that this one had been ruined for them. Well, guilty for Hannah's sake anyway. Until he remembered the hurt and defeat in Daniel's eyes. No, Crane had _had_ to use the two-by-four method on her husband. He only prayed whatever soul-searching Adam did in the next twelve hours would work.

Crane was sitting at the table, sipping one of the first of many coffees he knew he'd be having waiting up for Daniel tonight, when a car horn bleated in front of the house. Crane shook his head. He really must be exhausted not to have heard the car drive up. For an irrational moment he thought it might be Daniel but immediately realised it had to be Lindsay there to pick up Brian.

At the sound of his brother descending the stairs, Crane turned to him. Brian had cleaned up, had even shaved. The expression he wore though was neither his typical cocky one, nor overly enthusiastic. Good, Crane thought. Brian should feel as miserable as Crane did.

He immediately felt bad for the uncharitable thought, especially when Brian walked over to the table and rested both hands on Crane's shoulders. "You wanna come with?" he asked. "It's not gonna be a late night."

Crane tried to relax the muscles under Brian's grip. "That'll be a first," he said with a forced smirk.

Brian returned the gesture before sobering quickly. "Yeah, well. I wanna be here when Dan'l gets home."

Crane straightened up at that. He could see remorse and concern in Brian's eyes. "He won't be up for any talks tonight, Brian."

"I know. I just…" He didn't finish his thought, looked about as helpless as Crane felt.

Their silence was broken by the car horn again and Crane gave Brian a light shove. "You better go. Can't keep a lady waiting, right?"

Brian snorted, murmuring something about Lindsay being far from a lady, before moving away.

Absently taking another sip of coffee, Crane watched as Brian grabbed his coat from the closet and opened the front door. Waving goodbye, Crane looked away and stared into the mug. He was more than a little startled when Brian called out to him.

"Crane?"

Crane didn't answer, just met his brother's worried gaze.

"How come Dan'l hates this place so much?" He asked, sounding more like a little boy than Crane's cock-sure, pain in the ass older brother.

Crane set the cup down before answering with a gentle certainty. "Brian, this is his home. Danny doesn't hate it."

Crane could see the relief wash over Brian's face but it was quickly followed by uncertainty. "Ranching then?"

He was getting closer, though Crane responded honestly with, "No, he doesn't hate that either. It's just… He doesn't want it to be his life, that's all."

Brian didn't respond, though looked like he wanted to. Like he truly needed to understand. It was no wonder he was struggling. After all, back when he'd been working at the lumber yard and carousing with Ben Shepherd, it had been the love of family and of that family's legacy that had called him home.

At that thought, Crane felt the sting of tears. Knew he'd found the right words to help Brian.

In that moment, the memories had flooded him. And not a single one of them involved a cow.

He looked over at the piano and remembered a family of nine gathered around it… a considerably shorter version of himself pressed up against his father's thigh as they shared the piano bench and the keys. Crane's small, skinny fingers mimicking the strong, calloused ones dancing with absurd grace over the notes. Facing their dad was a gangly Brian, leaning against the side of the piano and playing his harmonica, its melodic tones in contrast with the already rugged hands holding it. Adam was there too, standing straight and tall in the memory, of course, and playing rhythm guitar to their mom's lead.

Their mom…

Her voice always so lyrical. Whether in song, with the younger boys accompanying her as they crawled or danced around her chair or, in sweet laughter, as Daniel insisted on helping her strum or play the chords of the six-string in her hold. The same guitar she soon gifted him with and he learned to play on, despite it being damn near as big as he was.

It was the cherished Gibson Daniel now composed the majority of his songs with and the one he hauled back and forth to Stockton. The rest of the band's gear stayed at The Brick Walk from Thursdays through their final set of the weekend but, never that acoustic. And it certainly wasn't just because Daniel preferred to write with it. It was as much a part of him as their mother's laugh and their father's eyes.

"Hey, Bri?" Crane called out softly, thoughts of that young family playing music together a bittersweet balm to his worried soul.

"Yeah?"

"I know this ranch is our legacy but… it isn't the only one Mom and Dad left us."

.

_To be continued._


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Penny for your thoughts?"

The soft, feminine voice startled him, enough that Daniel was sure he'd actually jumped a little in place. No point in denying he'd been wool-gathering as his mom used to call it, so he just shook his head and answered. "They're hardly worth that much, Stacy."

She looked skeptical; wearing the same expression everyone else had tonight when they'd asked him if he was all right and he'd answered he was fine. There were times, lots of them in fact, when Daniel wished he didn't wear his emotions on his sleeve. _And_ all over his face. Between Mike, Stacy and the guys, Daniel knew they were all well aware that he was far from happy tonight. Of course if he could just concentrate on getting ready to play his first set, instead of slipping back into the turmoil inside his head, it wouldn't be so obvious.

To give Stacy credit, she wiped the concern from her face and smiled. Waving at the curtain blocking their view of the crowded club beyond it, she said cheerily, "There's a full house out there that would beg to differ, junior."

_Junior_.

Usually Daniel didn't mind Stacy calling him that. She treated him like a big sister would most of the time, even more than Hannah who sometimes slipped into _Mom mode._ It had irked him at first but, once he'd realized Stacy had set her sights on Crane, he let the endearment roll off his shoulders. Crane was still suffering the sting of breaking up with Molly and seemed really comfortable in Stacy's presence, and that delighted Daniel. And Stacy was definitely into Crane, flirting with him all the time and even going so far as to give him her phone number.

Crane had reciprocated; with the flirting at least. They'd talked a lot in fact, enough that Daniel had learned from his brother that she was older, twenty-three; was from Pasadena; and had completed two years of college before quitting school. If Crane knew why she had dropped out he hadn't shared that information. Daniel was pretty sure Crane didn't know though.

Daniel had been disappointed that Crane had never called the pretty bartender. Now though, with her sudden resignation, Daniel was glad. The last thing his best friend needed was another girl breaking his heart.

Despite Crane never calling Stacy, Daniel hadn't made any moves on her either. Even though he'd really wanted to. She had curves in all the right places and, thanks to the skin-tight jeans she always wore he just knew her legs had to be amazing. And she was bold with a wicked sense of humor that helped her handle the patrons who overindulged, or rather tried to, at her bar. Though Mike had Mitchell Kane on hand as the club's bouncer, Stacy did a fine job of recognizing and defusing situations all on her own. Something both Daniel and Crane admired about her.

Even though his relationship with Tally Dean had ended in heartache, being with the talented songstress had pretty much ruined Daniel for ever going back to dating girls his age. And being lead singer of a band that was getting a lot of attention was certainly helping him adhere to that philosophy. At least, whenever Crane didn't come to Stockton with him. Daniel felt a little guilty about it at times… coming home even later than he had to but, you were only eighteen once, after all. Besides, he was being careful. Very.

He might not be quite the alley cat that big brother Brian was but, Daniel knew how to practice safe sex. And he'd definitely been getting the opportunity to hone his skills with some pretty terrific ladies. The only problem there was that, _unlike_ Brian, Daniel was quickly coming to the conclusion that he must be monogamous by nature. He didn't want to treat these women like they were just notches on his bedpost, even though he knew in some cases that was all _he_ was to them. He supposed he was more like Crane and Adam that way. Only Daniel was in no hurry to find _Mrs. Right _at all. He was too focussed on his music, not to mention too young, to take up with anyone seriously.

Admittedly, if it hadn't been for Crane, Daniel would've considered making an exception for Stacy.

_Junior. _Daniel sighed. Okay, so _that_ might've been a factor too.

After tonight's fight with Adam, Stacy treating him like a kid too was beginning to rub Daniel the wrong way again. He'd have to let it slide though. After all, he appreciated that she was trying to make him feel better.

Especially when he knew that something was eating at her too.

Besides, she was right; the crowd _was_ there for him. Though back when he'd started winning talent contests, his mom had taught him better than to ever gloat about it.

Daniel had never played a club that held as much capacity as The Brick Walk. The fact that the stage was a _real stage_ with a curtain and space behind it was definitely a bonus. Crane would often hang out back here on the nights he came with Daniel, though he spent a lot of time sitting at the corner of the bar too, as much behind it with Stacy as in front. And Stacy would come back here during her breaks too. Though, when Daniel and the guys were playing, he'd often spot her off to the side, swaying or bopping to his music, the occasional glow of a cigarette painting vivid orange streaks against her silhouette.

He didn't envision her doing much bopping tonight though, a fact that softened his attitude toward her sisterly concern even further. After all, Stacy's cheer seemed kind of phony tonight. Not in an ill-intended kind of way. More like the girl just didn't have it in her to be happy.

He knew something was up. Hell, the first sign had been her impromptu resignation this week. He knew she liked working here; knew that she and Mike Talbot, their boss, got along extremely well. Daniel really had to wonder if what he'd said to Crane earlier tonight was true: that maybe Stacy _was_ running from something. He could've sworn he'd seen the remnants of tears in her eyes when he'd first arrived at the place. And when Robin, one of their waitresses, had accidentally shattered a glass on the kitchen tiles, Stacy had looked so shocked and so pale, Daniel had worried just for an instant that she might faint.

He'd never seen her so jumpy. Hadn't thought nervousness was even in her makeup at all. It wasn't just how Stacy was acting either. Daniel had caught the boss watching Stacy a couple of times; wearing that tight expression that Adam seemed to have etched permanently on his face. Daniel was used to it with his oldest brother but not so much with Mike.

Aside from her saying she was moving out of state though, Daniel hadn't gotten any more out of Stacy than last night about her plans or why she'd suddenly quit. If there was something bigger and brighter on the horizon, she certainly wasn't acting like it.

Mind you, neither was Daniel.

With that in mind, he responded with an equally forced grin. "Nah, they're all just here for the chicken and rib combo," he quipped.

His smile was genuine when Stacy raised an eyebrow and answered with an incredulous, "Uh huh. Tell me another one, Hot-shot." Unfortunately he just didn't have it in him to hang onto the levity and, when he sighed heavily, her eyebrows drew together. "You sure you're all right?" He shook his head, about to deny his feelings once again but before he could, she asked him, "Does Crane not being here have anything to do with what's going on?"

He wondered then, not for the first time, about older women. Apparently Hannah wasn't the only one of them possessing a lot more insight than the girls he'd dated from school. Only tonight Stacy's perceptiveness was making Daniel feel a little too exposed so he decided to deny it and turn the tables on her just a little.

"No, something just came up at the ranch," he lied - mostly. "You know he would've been here to see you off if he could've though," Daniel added, throwing some playful innuendo in his voice when he told her, "But if you've got a forwarding phone number already, you know I'll pass it on to him."

Daniel sure as hell didn't expect Stacy to look so stricken all of a sudden. He didn't have a clue as to why what he'd said had been so terribly wrong, had actually brought a swell of tears to her sapphire eyes. And made him feel like a complete and utter jackass for saying it.

"I'm sorry, Stace," he apologized, meaning it whole-heartedly. "Gosh, are you okay?" He asked and then felt like a complete idiot again. Of course she wasn't okay. "Stacy, I'm sorry…I-"

Though he was failing miserably at saying the right thing to make her feel better, he was relieved that reaching for and squeezing her hand must have at least helped somewhat. Either that or Stacy was taking pity on him because she suddenly laughed lightly, wiped her eyes and pulled him in for a hug.

"Aren't we the pair?" she said with a husky chuckle that stirred something in him he knew was wholly inappropriate in that moment. Unfortunately, the feeling clearly wasn't mutual because the kiss she abruptly planted on his cheek was a sisterly one, purely platonic. Probably a good thing, he thought to himself despite his disappointment. He hid it well, he hoped, when she pulled away and her shining eyes met his. "Will you play a couple of songs for me tonight?"

"Sure, anything you want," he promised, meaning it.

"Play _"Not a Bad Dream"_ and um-"

She paused in thought for a moment, long enough for Daniel to have two of his own: the first a feeling of pride that she'd selected one of his songs, well, one he'd written with Crane. The second was just how damn good those curves had felt pressed up against him. He shook that one off. After all, Daniel knew he wasn't the McFadden that Stacy was most interested in. Still, that didn't mean he wouldn't give the girl one hell of a send-off. A goal made that much easier when she named _"Desperado"_ as her other request. Though he'd never performed it at The Brick Walk, the Eagles ballad was a cover he was confident he could slay.

Hell, maybe by the end of the night Daniel _would_ become the McFadden brother Stacy was most into? Either way, with Stacy facing big changes come morning like he was, the least he could do was give her a memorable show.

* * *

Adam pulled the old International up along the gate, shifted into 'Park' and sighed. Heavily. Despite it not yet being eleven-thirty, it had been an incredibly long night. Not to mention an awful one. He usually enjoyed these outings with his bride. Though they attended these dances in an official capacity as chaperones, Adam always did his best to treat his girl to a good time. They'd dress up, hold hands and even dance a little but tonight he'd been in no mood for romance. Thankfully, Hannah had felt the same way. Not that he was happy that she was as miserable as he was... it was just such a relief, not to mention privilege, to have someone by his side who understood him so well.

They hadn't said much to each other during the drive into Murphys, Adam having been fairly lost in his thoughts at the time. Once they'd arrived at the dance though he'd fully expected Mrs. McFadden to find a quiet corner somewhere in the gymnasium to chew him out. She didn't though.

They'd found that corner a few times, in between making sure none of the students had spiked the punch or that none of the teenage couples had located any quiet corners of their own.

He'd surprised himself. Likely Hannah some too, by being the one doing most of the talking. Damn, he was frustrated. Thank God for Crane and Ford because the two boys in between them were going to be the death of Adam. Guthrie too, trouble-magnet that he was but, well, that was a completely different kettle of fish. He still had time with that one. Evan and Daniel though? They might be approaching manhood but, Adam figured his hair would be gray or gone altogether before they finally got there.

Thankfully, he'd come to a bit of a truce with Evan. They'd fought hard over the boy's desire to quit school and start the rodeo circuit. Though he'd never, ever wish harm coming to any of the rodeo kids Evan hung around with, Adam had to guiltily admit that Sally Liston being thrown bad enough to hurt herself had been a bit of an ill-fated godsend. Her fall had scared Evan, and her still ongoing recovery had been eye-opening for their seventeen year-old.

Not eye-opening enough, however.

Though the near-tragedy had led to a cease-fire between brothers, with Evan promising to stay in school and graduate with the rest of his class, it hadn't extinguished his desire to join the circuit afterward. He was still taking rodeo classes at every opportunity and had recently set his sights on bull-riding. Because apparently getting tossed off and potentially stomped on by a thousand pound saddle bronc wasn't sufficiently appealing. No, he'd rather give his big brother a heart-attack and take on a beast half again as big with horns and a vengeance seeking temperament to boot.

And then there was Daniel, Adam's current "problem child." The one, according to Crane, Adam was successfully driving away from the family.

Didn't they realize Adam wanted nothing more than to keep all the kids under his roof - correction, their roof - for as long as possible? Hell, _forever_ if he was being honest with himself… though he knew that wasn't being even remotely realistic.

On the ranch, though? Wasn't that a possibility? They had lots of property, plenty of room to sever off some lots to build homes on and raise up more kids. Hell, maybe Adam and Hannah would even move out of the big house and into one of them… in about six years' time.

Once Guthrie was grown and safely off to college.

They could leave the big house to Crane, the sibling Adam was convinced would finish up with a large brood like their mom and dad's someday. Though knowing Crane he'd end up adopting as many as he and whatever lucky lady he married would whelp the traditional way.

But that was a long way off yet. Never mind waiting until he found the perfect girl to steal his heart, Crane still wasn't done with raising the boys, including Daniel.

And, by the look of things, doing a hell of a better job at it with that one than Adam was.

Adam had noticed the duffel in Daniel's hold but hadn't clued in to what it had symbolized. He'd figured the kid had just grabbed a change of clothes. Despite the money Daniel was apparently pulling in, living as they did with mostly hand-me-downs and second-hand clothes had certainly taught the boy the value of a buck. Adam knew Daniel's wardrobe for the stage was limited, it only made sense that he might start wearing it less; changing out of his good shirts once he was done the show.

Or done fooling around with whatever girl had taken a liking to his music.

Adam wasn't born yesterday.

Daniel was a good-looking kid with a lot of charm. He was on the football team. _And_ he played guitar. In other words, Adam's little brother was a chick-magnet.

Just like his oldest brother had been… until he'd gained custody of six kids.

And since Adam was well aware that underage girls seemed genetically predisposed to know just what clothes and make-up to wear to get themselves into bars without being carded, he worried about the other kind of magnet Daniel could be…

The teenage pregnancy kind.

Yup, that one kept big brother up at night.

He'd tried to talk to the boy but, in typical Daniel fashion, he'd gotten all offended and pissy about it. Had informed Adam he wasn't stupid and, besides which, he wasn't interested in any teenyboppers anymore. Which Adam knew had to be a crock. After all, what red-blooded all-American eighteen year-old wasn't interested in the girls throwing themselves at him?

Considering how late Daniel was dragging himself in the door some Friday and Saturday nights or worse, Thursdays, Adam felt justified in his concern.

And in his irritation.

So was it really all that wrong for Adam to have found Daniel a paying job closer to home? Where everyone knew everyone else and _Dad _wouldn't have to worry so damn much?

Then again, Adam should've known better. After all, being less worried often had a way of flipping around and biting him on the ass.

About three years after they'd lost their mom and dad, Adam had foolishly begun to think the last of his deepest worries were over. Once he'd made it to twenty-one with no huge calamities befalling the kids and still with a roof over their heads, CPS had eased off. No more unscheduled visits, no more needle-fine scrutiny. The first six months of just battling for custody of the boys had been a living nightmare so, for some time after, Adam hadn't been able to shake the fear that at any moment Children's Services would swoop in and tear them apart. Finally figuring out that Adam McFadden - despite assuring the court that, with the help of his community, he was perfectly capable of picking up where his parents had left off - was a fraud.

Three years on though, and with a supportive case-worker at the agency, Adam had finally allowed himself to breathe easier. Oh, he hadn't entirely let go of the dread of the hammer still falling and smashing his hard fought parental rights into smithereens but, at least Adam had been able to sequester it into the recesses of his mind.

His near complacency had lasted almost a full year. Until an almost hysterical eleven year-old Evan had stopped Adam's heart with the news that Daniel had fallen off Gibson and _'was hurt really, really bad'_.

The memory of finding Danny lying dazed and broken in a heap would forever be etched in Adam's brain. Daniel suffering a mild concussion, broken wrist and collarbone had promptly sent his guardian reeling into guilt and self-doubt. He hadn't needed CPS to show up again to remind him of his failings but, thanks to an innocent remark made by her twelve year-old patient, an overzealous city-bred nurse had set that ball in motion. And, with a new case-worker on board to complicate matters further and knife-twisting words like _'child endangerment'_ and _'child labor violations' _being whispered in the days and weeks after the accident, Adam had found himself in fear of losing the boys again. In the end, reason had prevailed but, the incident had left Adam battered, bruised and in a renewed and constant state of high alert.

It wasn't so much that he became over-protective; raising kids on a cattle ranch pretty much precluded that as an option. But, whenever he sensed a threat, he'd damn well do everything and anything in his power and beyond to snuff it out.

Even if that meant stomping on one of the boys' dreams.

Okay, so he was willing to admit that he should've checked with Daniel first before saying yes to Wheeler. That was Adam's mistake. How the hell was he supposed to know the kid had signed a contract though?

And, sure, in retrospect it hadn't even occurred to him that Ford might be hurt that Cleo wanted Daniel to sing at her party. Hannah had enlightened Adam on that screw-up. Watching Ford mooning over the girl all night at the dance had certainly brought that message home too.

Thank God Wheeler had planned on Daniel's presence being a surprise for the little thing. At least Adam wasn't going to break _her_ heart when he headed over to the Far Valley Ranch come morning to talk to Russ.

With his tail tucked between his legs, he thought ruefully.

Crane was right. The idea of backing out on the deal he'd made with Wheeler nearly made Adam ill. His ears already burned from embarrassment. He'd felt ten feet tall when Mrs. Wheeler had dragged her husband over to him outside of Ben Gunn's place. Watching the arrogant S.O.B. choke on his words as he asked Adam for _'a favor'_ had been the highlight of Adam's week. Felt even better than successfully negotiating the use of that four year-old stud the man had imported.

Pride had gotten the better of Adam. And, instead of acknowledging that Daniel's objections were legitimate, with the recent track-record of fights they'd been having, Adam had just blasted away at him. Including, dumping the future of their breeding program on the boy's shoulders. As though singing for Cleo would make or break the ranch. Adam had no right to burden Daniel with that responsibility. He'd done it though. And had even managed to belittle the kid - and his talent - in the process.

Or so Hannah had told him.

Hell, Adam wasn't _that_ much older than Daniel, was he? He sure remembered a time when he'd kill for fifty bucks. Or damn near get himself killed. Come to think of it, hadn't that been the bet between Brian and John Cutler when Adam had raced in the Gold Rush?

Apparently Daniel's music was worth more though.

And that thought worried Adam damn near as much as any bucking bull Evan would ever ride.

His thoughts went back to those he'd had just a few hours ago, the ones acknowledging the boy's talent. Lord knew the kid's heartfelt lyrics could cut Adam to the core but, were they good enough to move an audience that hadn't grown up with him? Or one that wasn't part of the community that had rooted for and watched a little boy recover his voice after tragedy had silenced it?

Hell, both Tally Dean and Stormy Weathers had told Daniel his lyrics needed work, right?

So, was his music really good enough to justify becoming the house band - to sign a contract, no less - for a club in a city the size of Stockton?

And even if it was, Stockton's music scene was still a far cry from Los Angeles. Besides, though he hadn't heard the kid perform in front of an audience since they'd all sung in church with Meg Palmer at Christmas, Adam knew Daniel's playlist. And he highly doubted singing covers for a bunch of drunken barflies or underage girls would warrant a record deal.

Damn it, if that kid headed down to Los Angeles, he'd get eaten alive!

It wasn't that Daniel was fragile. On the contrary, he actually seemed to weather the rejection he'd had to face so far from places he'd auditioned for like The Alamo or Pony's quite well. Problem was, Adam thought shamefully, these places had eventually said yes. Which only encouraged the boy. And the idea of Daniel with all his tenacity kicking around the fringes of the L.A. music scene, with all its hustlers, pushers, drugs and alcohol, in the hope that some club or agent or record company would relent and give him a break, well, that terrified Adam.

He had good reason too.

Daniel was just so easily star-struck. His relationships with Tally and Stormy were glowing testimony of that. And despite the hard knocks he'd experienced in life already, he was still naïve enough to see the good in everyone. Adam knew too that, though Daniel had learned an excruciatingly hard lesson after the boys and Jenny Barrett had been trapped by the Howling Man mine collapse, the kid was still inherently impulsive.

Easily star-struck.

Naïve.

Impulsive.

Could there be a deadlier combination in a place like L.A.?

Adam shuddered at the thought.

"You okay?" Hannah's soft voice startled him though the gentle hand rubbing along his thigh helped soothe his nerves. "You ready to go in?" She asked and Adam only then noticed that Evan and Ford were already mid-way up the porch steps making their way to the front door.

He must've really been lost deep in thought not to notice those two jumping out of the bed of the truck. He chose not to acknowledge Hannah's question, knew it was redundant anyway. Instead, he clasped his wife's hand, drawing strength from her as slender fingers laced through his.

"Yeah, I guess," he replied as their grasp broke apart. "You think Crane's still pissed with me?"

Opening the truck door, she held Adam's uncertain gaze with a confident one of her own. "He won't be once he realizes you're on the same side."

Climbing out of the vehicle too, he looked across its hood. "You mean once he realizes how willing I am to grovel?"

"Something like that," she answered; the moonlight illuminating her small grin. He caught up with her at the gate, holding it open for her before slipping his arm around her waist and guiding her through. Hannah looked at him again then, her expression more serious. "Adam, you know an apology isn't going to be enough. You two are going to have to come to a compromise."

She wasn't talking about Crane anymore. "I know," Adam replied, immediately regretting the defensiveness in his tone. Even without thoughts of the state calling his parenting capabilities into question fresh on his mind, he still had the tendency to be over-sensitive when anyone offered advice on the subject. Crane and Brian were used to it; Hannah not so much. Stopping them at the top of the porch, he said, "I'm sorry," and meant it. "It's just-"

"You're scared."

God, how he loved her insight. Drawing Hannah into his chest, Adam placed a kiss in her hair before resting his chin atop it. "Yeah, I am," he admitted, holding her tighter. "Have been for the last ten years."

* * *

"Hey," Crane said distractedly, half-heartedly greeting Evan and Ford as they jostled each other walking through the door. He was full of anxiety and hoped it wasn't showing. No point in ruining their sleep tonight too.

Hearing the truck pull up had gotten Crane's blood pumping. At first foolishly thinking it might be Daniel home already. Then concern - wondering what frame of mind Adam would be in. Giving Adam time to stew on something could sometimes backfire, allowing him more time to dig in his heels whenever he thought he was right.

That wasn't the case tonight.

"You okay?" Adam asked softly as Crane met him at the door.

Before Crane could answer, Hannah slipped out of from under her husband's arm and squeezed Crane's hand. "Who wants hot chocolate?" The offer was made to them all and with forced cheer but, as she ushered the two younger boys toward the kitchen, Crane knew her intention was to give him and Adam a moment alone.

"None for me; thanks," Crane said, though he made his appreciation clear in his tone. Turning back to Adam, his big brother lifted an eyebrow, still waiting for an answer apparently. "No, I'm not," he answered honestly. "You?"

Adam's shoulders slumped. "'Bout the same. Worried. Pissed off – with myself," he hastened to add when Crane raised his own eyebrow. "Mostly sorry, I guess."

Crane could read the regret in his big brother's face, the concern too but, he wasn't feeling terribly sympathetic. He was wrung out from running probable scenarios through his mind all evening. None of them had ended with Daniel staying home beyond the next inevitable battle with Adam, so Crane couldn't muster up any forgiveness either. Besides, it wasn't his to give.

"Yeah, I know." Crane sighed before making his way over to the couch furthest from them. Slumping down heavily into it, he waited for Adam to follow, though big brother sat down across from him. "But that's not going to be enough this time," Crane added pointedly, failing to keep all of the bite out of his words.

"Enough for what?" Evan asked, appearing suddenly over Crane's shoulder.

"Yeah; and why is everyone so serious?" That was Ford. "What's going on? You two have been quiet all night."

Ford was addressing Hannah now, who had joined them, and Crane watched as she shot Adam an apologetic look. Her husband gave her a strained smile and cleared his throat. Crane could usually read Adam well but, right then he honestly had no idea what the eldest McFadden was about to say. Though Adam could never be accused of coddling the boys, he was certainly protective of all of them and Crane knew Adam would want to spare them any worry.

"Wait a minute..." Too late; Crane could already hear the concern in Evan's voice as he met the teenager's laser beam gaze. "Why are you even here? Shouldn't you be in Stockton?"

"Did something happen tonight?" Ford was focusing equally intense eyes on Adam now, and Crane began to worry that Adam might feel cornered.

"Fellas, come on. Settle down," Hannah implored, obviously sharing a similar concern. "Adam and Crane just had something last minute to deal with so Daniel went by himself."

It wasn't exactly a lie and it appeared to successfully appease Ford who visibly relaxed with Hannah's words. Crane shifted his attention to Evan next though and quickly realized the kid wasn't buying what their sister-in-law was selling. Those light blue eyes were zeroed in on Adam now, though their elder was oblivious. With Adam's shoulders slumped and his head bowed lower between them, it was no wonder their fifth-born was picking up signals that something was seriously wrong tonight. Still, with Evan's next words, Crane learned that their rough and tumble cowboy was a lot more intuitive than Crane would have ever given him credit for.

"What did you do?" There was a lot of accusation in those words and that definitely brought Adam's head up.

"Watch your tone, young man." Adam snapped, using his most lethal _Dad _voice.

It didn't back Evan up in the slightest. "Did you two have another fight?" Despite Ford placing what was clearly intended as a calming palm against his roommate's back, the riled up teen didn't even wait for Adam's response. "What did you say to Daniel?"

Crap, the last thing their family needed was Evan and Adam going toe to toe again too. "Evan, give it a rest!" Crane outright shouted, knowing that his raised voice - used much more sparingly than Adam's or Brian's - tended to have more impact with the seventeen year-old.

The kid ducked, as did poor Ford, and promptly shot Crane a look full of both hurt and betrayal.

Crane sighed, took a minute to gather his thoughts and tamp down the bile that wanted to accompany his next words. "Look, you're right. They had another fight-" He raised his hand, effectively forestalling any further input from Evan. Crane knew he might be crossing the line with Adam here but he decided honesty, if not full disclosure, would be the best policy. "And I'm not going to lie to you; it was a bad one." Crane's gaze had drifted to Ford and the kid looked so crushed by the news, older brother had to briskly look away. Meeting Adam's guilty gaze this time, he continued. "But we love each other; _they_ love each other and we're going to figure this out." Trying to lighten the mood and remove the twin looks of misery from his younger brothers' faces, Crane forced a weak smile. "So… the sooner you two hit the hay, the sooner we grownups can hash out a plan to fix this, all right?"

Evan stood stone still for a moment and Crane sent up a little prayer that the stubborn kid would relent. It was in that instant that the kettle began to emit a well-timed and distractingly shrill whistle and Ford lightly rapped his knuckles against his brother's arm. "Come on; let's take those hot chocolates to go."

Evan breathed out a long sigh then and Crane allowed himself the same luxury. "Yeah, okay," the kid said. "We'll go."

As the boys made their way into the kitchen, Hannah sat down next to Adam and settled under his arm. All three adults watching in silence as Evan and Ford returned in no time with mugs in their hands. Crane doubted that either of them was in the mood for hot chocolate any longer.

The teens slowly plodded past the couches; neither acknowledging their elders or saying _'good night'_ even as they climbed the stairs. Crane couldn't say he blamed them. Tonight was about as far from a good night as they'd had in a long time.

Assuming that they wouldn't hear anything more from the boys until morning, he was a little surprised when Evan called down to them from the landing at the top of the stairs.

"Guys?"

"Yeah, champ?" Adam replied, straightening up as he addressed him.

It was actually Ford who answered, looking as solemn as Crane had ever seen him despite sounding so impossibly young. "You _are_ gonna fix this, right?"

* * *

"Later, man," Cory called out to Daniel as he and their fellow band member, Sam Davies headed toward the club's back exit.

"See ya tomorrow, guys," Daniel responded a little hoarsely as his friends slipped through the door; out into the back lot where The Brick Walk staff including the band all parked their vehicles. It was after one a.m., the bar was closed for the night and, including Daniel, there were only about half a dozen people left in the place.

Unexpectedly he felt a shove from behind as Red, their bassist cackled gleefully.

"Jerk," Daniel said with a grin. "You outta here too?"

"Yeah, just about," Red replied, his expression losing all its levity. "You sure you don't want to bunk at my place tonight?"

Daniel shook his head. He'd declined the same offer a few times already.

Though, after seeing Brian tonight, he'd seriously considered it. Correction, he only thought he saw Brian. Over near the crowded bar while he was lost in the midst of a kick-ass guitar solo. Daniel had been absorbed in the rush of both the audience and those chords bending to his will and had just barely caught a glimpse when he came up for air. By the time the rousing song was over, Brian, or rather the phantom Brian, had disappeared.

It had been his imagination, he realized now. But the thrill of seeing Brian followed by the deep disappointment of being mistaken had hurt more than it should have. And for a flickering moment, Daniel had truly dreaded the idea of going home.

But then he'd remembered his promise to Crane.

Over all, the night had been a tremendously successful one, with a great crowd, and not just the girls screaming his name, that soaked up their music. But, whenever Daniel hadn't been on stage singing his throat raw, he'd found himself drifting into that same melancholy state he'd been in before their first set had started. A mood he definitely hadn't been able to hide from a long-time friend like Red. Somehow, over the course of the evening, Red had managed to get Daniel to spill his guts about what was wrong. That he'd had another blow-up with Adam and had come to the painfully difficult conclusion that it was time for Daniel McFadden to leave home.

He'd even called Walt Henry from the bar; just to make sure the mechanic would be working his typical half-day Saturday tomorrow. They'd agreed to meet at one-thirty at the garage, after he'd closed up shop. Daniel had told Walt that he had a proposition for him involving Walt's apprenticeship offer. Upon hearing that news, the older man had sounded pretty pleased.

At first.

But then he'd started asking questions...

_"Wait, don't you still have school?" _

_"Yeah, I do," Daniel confirmed before hastily adding, "But only part days this semester and that's only for a couple months before final exams. Then I'm done." _

_Though Daniel didn't exactly hate school, he was definitely going to be relieved when he walked out BHU's doors as a student for the last time. As far as he was concerned, his classes weren't serving him a purpose anymore... especially not with his music career starting to take off._

_"Well, I guess that's all right then," Walt replied, sounding a lot more hesitant all of a sudden. "What about the ranch though? Have you talked things over with Adam? Last thing I want to do is get on his bad side. Or God forbid Brian's."_

_The enthusiasm in Walt's voice was waning and that worried Daniel. And irritated him. After all, he hadn't even given Walt any details yet and the man was already balking. This was not good. _

_Daniel had just given away every cent he had - stupidly, he was willing to admit - so, despite the good money he was making at The Brick Walk, he really needed Walt to accept the deal he was going to propose: hopeful that the kind-hearted mechanic would be willing to let Daniel work off not only room and board but also build himself a car in the process. _

_I should have known Walt's loyalties would lean toward Adam and Brian first, Daniel thought bitterly._

_Still he had to try._

_"That won't be a problem, Walt," Daniel assured him. "Look, I don't really have time to explain right now-" That was definitely true. He was expected back on stage shortly. "Can we just talk about this tomorrow?"_

_"Sure, sure," Walt replied, not really sounding all that sure at all. "Just as long as it's okay with your folks."_

_"I'm eighteen, Walt," Daniel ground out, immediately regretting his tone. He was getting awfully tired of being treated like a kid though and, damn it, he was old enough to make decisions like this one without Adam's say so. _

_"I know y'are, son," Walt said, clearly trying to placate him. The deep sigh that followed made Daniel wince though. "Still, Adam's a friend and I sure wouldn't want to jeopardize that; you understand?"_

_Daniel did understand but, well, he needed the man's friendship more than Adam did right now. And, with that in mind he figured he should stop trying to bite the hand he desperately hoped was going to feed him. Glad that he'd had the foresight to ask his roommate to accompany him tomorrow, Daniel offered up an apology and a solution. "I'm sorry, Walt. And I get it but… can we just meet up at 1:30? I'll bring Crane along if that'll make you feel better." _

_"Crane? Well, sure. Why didn't you say so?"_

Walt's response had been much more upbeat then, more like the beginning of their conversation. Relieved that the mechanic's attitude had improved greatly, it still irked Daniel to no end that it had taken the assurance of one of his baby-sitters accompanying him to appease the man.

He had to let it go though. Walt was a really super guy and he and Daniel had gotten along famously working together to fix up the Mustang for the Gold Rush. He felt confident that a good working relationship could continue between them in the future.

And with that future starting in the morning, Daniel was going to have to decline Red's offer again too and head home tonight. He had every intention of getting up early to do his chores, so that neither Adam nor Brian could hold anything over his head before he and Crane went into Murphys.

"Nah, thanks, Red," Daniel said sincerely. "I gotta get home tonight. Too much to do in the morning. Besides, I prom-"

"I know, I know. You promised Crane," Red interrupted. "I really should know better," he continued, shaking his head and chuckling lightly.

Daniel just shrugged his shoulders. Yeah, Red _should've_ known better. After all, Daniel wasn't the kind of man to break his promises, especially ones he'd made to Crane.

.

_To be continued._


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Thanks for all the wonderfully enthusiastic reviews!  
Thanks for the beta, Katt :)  
**Warnings:** Language, language and more language

* * *

**Chapter 5**

He hadn't intended to doze off, didn't think that he possibly could but something startled Adam awake and he bolted upright from the easy chair.

"It's too early," Crane said softly from across the room. He was seated at the dining table, an open ledger and mug in front of him. "That'll be Brian."

Adam realized that it must've been a car he'd heard, the same one backing out of their gravel lane now. He was disappointed it wasn't Daniel – needed to see him home safe – but, one look at the clock on the mantel and he realized Crane was right. It was almost one-fifteen; exceptionally late for Adam's standards but too soon for their middle brother to be home.

Daniel had reminded him numerous times, with various levels of irritation, that the bar closed at one a.m. Plus, according to Crane, one of the waitresses was supposed to be getting a send-off tonight. Much to Adam's displeasure, Daniel wasn't due home for at least another hour. Adam truly wished Crane had gone with the kid; he'd be company for him during the drive home. Hell, given the wistful look in Crane's eyes when he'd mentioned the going away party for this girl – a bartender, Adam remembered now – he wondered if there was another reason Crane might regret having not gone into Stockton.

"I'll put more coffee on," Crane offered as he got up from his chair and headed into the kitchen.

"Thanks," Adam said roughly, realizing that was the first thing he'd said to his brother since unintentionally dozing off. He took to his feet, rolled his shoulders and stretched his arms, hearing altogether too many creaks and crunches for a man his age. He slowly made his way over to the table. Spinning the chair opposite Crane's around, he heavily sunk into it, resting his elbows on its crest-rail.

They'd had a lot to say to each other earlier. After Ford and Evan had gone up to bed and once Hannah had felt comfortable enough to head upstairs too. He and Crane had to promise her they'd behave, that they'd stop being at each other's throats and work together instead.

Since Crane wanted the same outcome as Adam – to figure a way to keep Daniel at home – in the end, it was an easy promise to make.

Working with Crane toward a common goal wasn't typically difficult at all for Adam. In fact, it was something he truly enjoyed. He was so damn proud of Crane, of the man he'd become. Their mom and dad had laid down one hell of a foundation with him, so building from it hadn't been much of a challenge. Hell, Adam and Brian were both willing to admit that Crane's off the charts maturity at the age of twelve had been a saving grace for them when their folks had passed. Adam didn't exactly take pride in the fact that he'd leaned on a child so young back then. In hindsight he recognized that the responsibility he'd placed on the boy, especially when it came to looking after their younger siblings, had been too much.

Too much to ask. Not too much for Crane to bear.

And where Daniel was concerned, Crane had pretty much demanded the responsibility.

Looking over at Crane's reading glasses resting upon the ledger book, Adam shook his head and sighed heavily. Nothing had changed in that regard. Their college graduate had probably kept up with the number crunching tonight, kept thinking up possible scenarios, long after Adam had conked out.

As much as they wanted the same thing – for the fighting to stop and for Daniel to not just stay home but _want_ to, Crane and Adam still weren't on the same wave-length.

Adam had conceded his wrong-doing regarding saying yes to Wheeler. It had been pretty darn stupid, not to mention inconsiderate. He got that. But, aside from offering up an apology once the kid came home, and promising to square things with Wheeler, Adam didn't have a clue what to say or do to talk Daniel out of leaving for good.

As long as Daniel had his fool head stuck up in the stars, convinced he was going to make a go of it in L.A., Adam was going to have a problem supporting him.

Sure, Daniel was starting to pull in an impressive income; Adam couldn't deny that. After getting the facts from Crane and looking at the books, Adam was frankly amazed that this Mike Talbot guy was paying the band so well. It touched Adam that Daniel was setting aside money for the ranch. For things like the new clutch that Daniel apparently intended to pay for outright.

_Oops. _

Adam should've known better. After all, it hadn't been the first time Daniel had offered up his earnings to help out around the place. So, yeah, he shouldn't have ridden Daniel over the damn tractor repair. Even if the boy _had_ taken too long to order the clutch, Adam especially shouldn't have said anything about it in front of company.

Still, where Crane and Adam couldn't agree was with the numbers. Not the money, the manpower. There was no denying the Circle-Bar-Seven could use the extra cash set aside that Daniel was bringing in but, what they needed as much was manpower. It didn't matter that, like Crane had argued, they had more able bodies now than when Crane was in school or when the boys were younger. Or rather maybe it _did_ matter but, that was exactly the point… more able bodies meant they could grow the herd, just like they'd started to do when Crane had come home from Davis.

Having all seven of them grown – or nearly grown – would finally allow them to expand the herd. And then maybe they could actually pull in a real profit for once.

Was it so wrong for Adam to dream of providing for his family the way his father once had?

"Here," Crane said, interrupting Adam's internal dialogue and setting a steaming cup of coffee on the table in front of him. The black liquid sloshed more than it should have and Adam looked up, not certain if Crane was still upset with him or just plain tired. Decided it was probably both.

Adam offered his thanks, still scrutinizing Crane while the kid remained standing. His broad shoulders looked uncharacteristically slumped and there was a pinched look around his light hazel eyes. "You get any sleep at all?" Adam already knew the answer but, well, he hated the tension between them so decided to resort to small-talk.

Not surprisingly, Crane shook his head. "Nope. Couldn't if I wanted to."

Adam didn't hear any condemnation in Crane's tone; this time anyway, but felt it nonetheless. After all, _Adam_ was their guardian. _He_ was _Dad_. And yet _he_ had fallen asleep when Crane hadn't.

Knowing it was pointless, Adam still made the suggestion. "You can, you know?" Crane was already shaking his head. "You said it yourself; he won't be home until well after two."

Brian's quiet arrival saved Adam from further useless entreaties. It had been a good ten minutes since Adam had been awoken by whichever girlfriend's car had dropped Brian off but, older brother still asked yet another question he already knew the answer to. "You check the barn?"

One of the oldest three typically performed a late night check of the stabled stock. More often than not, thanks to his busy social calendar, that chore fell to Brian.

"Uh, yeah, everything's fine out there," Brian answered, tossing his jacket onto the couch and heading toward them. Evidently he was surprised that his _bedroom_ had interlopers at this time of the night. "You're _both_ waiting up?"

Adam wasn't sure what to make of that question; decided maybe he didn't really want to think about it much.

"You're later than planned," Crane said with a smug expression Adam definitely didn't know the meaning behind. It was an odd statement though. As late as it was for Adam and Hannah, Brian coming home around this time on a Friday night wasn't really all that out of the usual.

Brian snorted in response, looking almost sheepish, and that's when Adam knew there had to be a story behind this exchange. "Yeah, don't I wish," he replied with an outright scowl. Keeping up with his cryptic explanation, he added, "It's not what you think, college boy. I took—Lindsay and I took a detour tonight."

"Oh, yeah?" Adam raised an eyebrow, unsure where this was headed.

"Yeah… to Stockton."

"You saw him?" Crane asked with genuine delight; straightening in his seat and suddenly damn near as animated as Guthrie could be. "That's great. He'd've been thrilled."

"Yeah, well, just for a little while." Brian said, swallowing forcefully before hastily adding. "I don't think Dan'l saw me."

Adam didn't like the sound of that and, based on his response, neither did Crane. "What do you mean, he didn't see you? Why the hell not?"

The worry was clearly taking its toll so, before Crane could take it out on Brian again – who this time might actually decide to retaliate – Adam wrapped a firm hand around the kid's arm. "Back off, Crane. Let's hear him out." His words came out harsh, a brook no argument command, and Crane thankfully acquiesced. But those words weren't meant solely for Crane; Adam wanted an explanation from Brian too. "All right, so talk," he told him, backing up his demand with an intense stare.

Brian sighed heavily, shrugged shoulders that seemed to suddenly weigh a ton. His eyes met Crane's first. "I thought a lot about what you said. You know; about Mom 'n Dad and Dan'l's music?"

Adam didn't know, specifically anyway, but Crane seemed to understand and gave Brian an encouraging nod. The kid's demeanor was as sympathetic now as it had been antagonistic just seconds ago. Brian continued. "I just decided to check it out."

Adam was still confused. It wasn't like Brian hadn't heard Daniel play before. Hell, Adam would bet there wasn't anyone in the county who hadn't, save the newly born Leeson twins. And even that was questionable. He wanted answers, more information but, the fact that Crane and Brian were seemingly in the midst of a truce kept Adam from demanding any. For now.

"And how was it?" Crane asked, his tone oddly gentle, compassionate even.

"Pretty damn incredible," Brian said with a crooked, almost embarrassed grin and Adam couldn't help but wince. Brian's tone was soft too, nearly reverent, and there was a familiar pride in his eyes that Adam recognized from every time Coop Johnson, the rodeo legend, sang Evan's praises.

Adam didn't like it now either. He needed Brian on his side, damn it.

"So why didn't you talk to him?" Adam asked, selfishly hoping that Brian's response would somehow bring him back to "Team Adam".

Brian's gaze found the floor and he seemed lost in thought for a moment, caught up in the memory possibly. Eventually he straightened up again, huffing out a breathy laugh before meeting Adam's eyes with an apology shining in his own. "I dunno," he said, shifting his focus to Crane now. "We got there late, must've been about midnight. Anyway, there was a huge crowd and most of them were on their feet. They were singing _'Gloria'_—" Adam raised his eyebrows, the Van Morrison song was something he remembered Daniel and the younger boys driving him crazy with when they were little but, he couldn't recall ever seeing Daniel perform it on stage. Though, with a chorus meant for audience participation, he supposed it made sense that he'd sing it. Adam couldn't understand why Brian seemed so utterly impressed though but, clearly, he was. "I swear… he had them eating out of the palm of his hand and, shoot, that was even before he broke into his guitar solo," Brian said with a crooked grin.

Okay, so Daniel rocked a partying crowd with a song written by someone else that was expressly designed to engage them. Fine. None of this was answering Adam's question.

"It's a lot to take in, isn't it?"

There was that quiet, understanding tone coming from Crane again. It was almost patronizing; though Brian didn't seem to be taking any offense by it.

"Yeah, it is," Brian breathed. "I guess it kind 'a threw me so… so I just left." Chuckling lightly he added, "Managed to piss Lindsay off in the process. She _really_ wanted to stay."

"You should have listened to her," Crane said but without any bite. "Knowing you were there would've made Danny really happy."

"Yeah, I suppose… He was just so-" Brian seemed lost for words again but when he found them, Adam realized that he was the one truly lost. "Ah, hell, I don't know. After everything that happened here tonight, I didn't want to risk me bein' there spoiling anything for him. Besides, with everybody cheering and singing along, I kind of felt like I didn't belong."

* * *

"Hell of a show tonight." Mitch clapped a huge hand on Daniel's shoulder, throwing in a smirk, a wagging finger and a, "Remember to behave yourself," before exiting once more through the back door. Only, the familiar ribbing seemed a little forced this time; like the big guy had something else on his mind. He'd just come back into the place, having unnecessarily insisted on loading Daniel's six-string into the Jeep.

"You know I always do… and, thanks!" Daniel said, a little too late, his eyes immediately drawn to his boss and Stacy, the only people aside from him now left in the club. They were huddled together near the bar, in deep conversation and Mike was wearing that serious, concerned look again while Stacy shook her head in response to whatever he was saying. Stacy's back was to Daniel so he couldn't see her face at all. Thanks to Mike's demeanor though and Stacy's near tears earlier, Daniel couldn't help but share in some of his boss's worry.

Daniel was certain Stacy's night had improved thanks in large part to his band. Not only did he serenade her with the songs she'd chosen but, instead of waiting until the bar closed down for the night, he'd kicked off her going-away party by getting the crowd involved. Around midnight, he'd announced to The Brick Walk's patrons that it was Stacy's last night. Daniel had known that would bring in more tips for her plus, well, he'd just really wanted to do what he could to erase the hurt he'd seen earlier in her eyes.

He knew he'd accomplished both, the latter at least until now. Of course, after his guitar solo for _'Gloria'_, when he'd changed up the lyrics and had everyone chanting Stacy's full name, 'Stasia' instead, she'd looked so red-faced he'd wondered if she'd ever forgive him.

She had. Even gave him another kiss. On the lips this time.

And that had helped undo the sting of disappointment he'd carried through that solo and beyond after he'd decided that he'd apparently only imagined seeing Brian in the crowd.

"Hey, McFadden!" Mike's shout from across the room effectively stopped Daniel from succumbing to another bout of self-pity. "I'm still about ten minutes away from locking up; you think you could escort the lady to her car?"

Stacy immediately started to protest but was silenced by a stern look and raised eyebrow from Mike that could have rivaled those of Adam.

"No point in arguing, Stace. I know that look," Daniel told her as he met the pair midway across the floor. Throwing a wink in Mike's direction, he added, "Besides, he's still your boss, at least until you walk out that door."

"Not anymore," she said, the hint of a smile quirking her lips. Opening her purse she pulled out a check and waved it at both of them. "I've already got my last pay," she said smugly.

Daniel couldn't help but laugh. It was great to see Stacy smiling again. Mike was pretty quick on his feet too though and promptly replied, with mock severity as he indicated Daniel, "Yeah, but I don't settle up with _him_ until tomorrow."

The bogus threat did the trick. "Oh, all right then," Stacy sighed dramatically before shooting Daniel an apologetic look. "Can you hold on a sec?"

"Yeah, sure. Absolutely," Daniel replied. Despite the hour, he really wasn't in any hurry to get home.

The levity disappeared when Stacy turned and wrapped her arms around Mike. She whispered, "Thanks for everything, Boss-man," though Daniel was standing close enough to hear. Too close. He had to take a step away, feeling very much like an intruder all of a sudden.

Mike responded with a clearly heartfelt hug. "You take care of yourself, Stasia," the man admonished and Daniel saw that the concern was back in full force.

"You know I will," she assured him before turning her attention to Daniel. Her face broke into a smile, though Daniel could tell she was working hard to hold it. "Shall we?" She said, holding her elbow out to Daniel.

"We shall," Daniel replied, giving her a high wattage grin that he knew was definitely more authentic than hers. He linked his arm through hers and, by the time they exited the building and stepped out into the sparsely lit lot, Stacy was also loosely grasping his bicep with her other hand. It felt good having her snug against his side like that and, in that moment, he couldn't decide which McFadden he wanted to kick more: Crane, for never having acted on her advances, or himself, for adhering to the _'bro code'_ and not asking her out instead.

It was too late. He respected Stacy too much to think of her as a one-night stand and now she was moving away.

Not to mention the fact that, despite being arm in arm, Stacy wasn't really acting any more interested in Daniel tonight than any other night.

In other words, not at all.

That didn't lessen his desire to make her smile again though. "Staa-aay-cee-aah," he sang softly, repeating the line again despite his inability to keep a straight face.

"Oh, God," she groaned, releasing her hold of him just long enough to lightly punch him in the ribs. "Don't remind me, please." She might've been complaining but there was laughter in her voice now _and_ in her eyes.

Good, Daniel thought. He really hated to see anyone hurting.

There were only a few vehicles still parked there and Daniel directed them toward Stacy's Duster. He knew the car well, not just by sight. She'd accidentally flooded the engine trying to get it started one particularly cold night about a month or so back and Daniel and Crane had gotten it running for her again.

Though he recognized the car easily enough, their progression toward it was halted by an abrupt squeal, a "There he is!" and the sound of high heels rapidly clicking on pavement. Daniel winced, oddly embarrassed suddenly.

He'd forgotten about Mitch's smirk.

"Can we please have your autograph, Daniel?" The boldest of the young women asked. Daniel definitely recognized her as a regular at his gigs; it was hard to miss her dancing in the front row, especially with how she dressed. Despite the cool night, she was wearing the shortest of mini-skirts and one of his band's t-shirts, its hem knotted at her midriff. Still, Daniel was pretty certain that he was the one feeling more exposed, especially given the way she and her starry-eyed friends were outright ogling him.

"My name's Tami. That's with one "M" and an "I", she told him. Daniel was tempted to ask if he should put a little heart over the "I", certain that she probably did on a regular basis.

For the most part, Daniel got a kick out of this; the groupies waiting for him after a show. They were the same girls who'd often pass him and the guys their names and numbers – not to mention more suggestive notes – up from the floor when the band was playing. With there being only three tonight, and he damn near snorted at the concept of _'only'_, he figured most had grown tired of waiting around later than usual. Or maybe a few had taken Sam and Cory back to their respective places already.

Daniel was fine with that.

He definitely wasn't cool with the blistering looks these girls were giving Stacy though and wanted nothing more than to tell them to buzz off. But, his momma, and then Adam afterward, had raised him to be respectful of women. So Daniel acquiesced, and released his hold on a seemingly unfazed Stacy. Actually, unfazed wasn't exactly right; in fact she was looking downright entertained as he politely signed a couple of eight-by-ten glossies and an autograph book the girls had presented him.

Before the awkward, expectant silence that followed could settle, it was Stacy who put an end to it. "All right, ladies; you've had your fun. Better luck next time though," she told them, snaking her arm possessively around Daniel's again. "He's mine tonight."

Daniel was too shocked to notice the collective reaction of the girls. Though, come to think of it, he was pretty certain he'd heard "bitch" floating back to them from one of the retreating forms.

He turned back to Stacy, caught the amusement on her lips and realized her words had just been for show; a tactic to get rid of those girls. Though he knew sleeping with Stacy would've been the wrong thing to do tonight, he couldn't deny his disappointment.

"Come on, Junior," she said, inadvertently rubbing salt into the wound. He numbly let her take the lead this time as they continued toward her car.

And toward the stranger suddenly appearing from the shadows behind it.

Stacy must've noticed him first because Daniel felt the grip around his arm tighten exponentially at the exact time she stopped cold, frozen in place.

"Who the hell is this?"

Funny, the mystery guy had just taken the words right out of Daniel's mouth.

Daniel might not be the brightest McFadden of the bunch but he was far from an idiot. In fact, he was actually pretty good at math. And when he added up Stacy's sudden resignation, Mike's concern and the fact that the poor girl was standing there shaking like a leaf and with a death-grip on Daniel's arm? Well, he figured the probability was pretty high that this dude was no stranger to Stacy.

"I _said…_ who in the _hell_ is this?"

She didn't answer and Daniel was glad of it. No one deserved being talked to like that. The man sounded angry, was acting outright threatening, and there was simply no way Daniel was going to abide it.

Easing in front of Stacy, Daniel replied instead. "The lady doesn't owe you any explanations, ass-hole." Daniel had a fleeting thought that he was glad Crane wasn't with him. Stupid really, since back-up would've been appreciated right about now. Still, antagonizing the man would've eventually earned him a slap upside the head from Crane even though Brian probably would've praised him for it. But, since neither of them were there, Daniel was going to have to rely on his own instincts. Even if it meant having to take a few lumps for mouthing off at the guy.

"I never thought of you as the cradle-robbing type, Stace," the ass-hole in question replied. Actually, sneered was more like it. He'd outright laughed at Daniel's insult, instantly reminding Daniel of how squeaky and weak his voice always sounded after he'd been on stage all night.

Apparently, even Stacy had been affected by it. Maybe mistook his tone for fear because suddenly she stepped around Daniel, lifted her hands in a placating gesture and said, "He's nobody, Vince. Just a kid. Leave him alone."

Ouch, Daniel thought.

He had to let the hurt and humiliation go. This Vince guy was exuding nervous energy along with a whole pile of malice. His hands were clenching and unclenching and Daniel knew deep down in his bones that not even Crane could talk his way out of a fight with this nut-job. Sure enough, the jerk-off stepped closer, both hands balled into fists.

He knew Vince was sizing him up. Knew it because Daniel was doing the same thing...

He was older than Daniel, maybe about Brian's age. Taller than Daniel too but only by maybe an inch or two. Daniel figured that physically they were actually pretty evenly matched. This guy was lean, like Crane, but Daniel seriously doubted he'd spent his entire life working a ranch and wrestling cattle.

Still, he knew better than to underestimate an opponent. After all, thanks to being five-eight, Daniel was very familiar with being underestimated. It actually worked to his advantage for the most part. He was counting on it doing the same tonight.

"Then what were you two doing arm in arm, huh?" Vince replied to Stacy, disgust in his tone. "Is he why you left Modesto?"

Stacy was shaking her head, radiating fear and misery and Daniel decided then and there that he was putting an end to it. If Vince was why Stacy had quit The Brick Walk – and Daniel's math skills were telling him that he was – that was reason enough for him to take on this douche-bag. After actually witnessing Stacy's torment though? Well, what kind of man would Daniel be if he didn't step up and fight for her?

"No, I'm not actually," Daniel replied, subtly sliding his left foot forward and allowing a slight bend to both his knees. His gravelly voice had regained some strength just in time. "But it doesn't take a rocket-scientist to figure out that you're the reason she left, dip-shit."

When Vince launched at him with a roar, Stacy screamed Daniel's name in what could only be described as utter horror. Daniel wished he'd had enough time to warn her; to tell the girl to run and get into her car and take-off. But, since he was a little preoccupied, all he could do was hope that the none-too-gentle push he gave her past the lunatic charging him would get the same message across.

He ducked low, easily slipping Vince's telegraphed and wildly swinging punch. The miss over the top of Daniel's shoulder exposed the taller man's right side and Daniel didn't hesitate, coiling his left arm and letting loose at forty-five degrees, executing a perfectly placed liver shot and dropping Vince to his knees like the sack of shit that he was. Brian would've been proud.

Adrenaline pumping through heated veins, momentum carrying him forward, Daniel cocked his right hand, ready to follow through with a combination and knock Vince's head off. But, a voice inside his own – sounding suspiciously like Crane – told him to stop. That he'd already won.

He stepped forward anyway, muscles twitching and chest heaving and watched as Vince flinched and fell on his ass at Daniel's approach. Scrabbling backwards, one hand braced against the asphalt, the other wrapped around his ribs, he looked terrified. Good. Daniel allowed himself the moment of conceit. Of victory. Nothing shut down a body quite like a liver punch and the evidence was whimpering right there in front of him. With involuntary tears and snot streaming down his face, Vince looked a mess. And was most definitely no longer a threat.

Two hands wrapped around Daniel's upper arm and he startled, his brain thankfully re-engaging in time to realize they were soft, small and decidedly feminine, about the same time Stacy stammered, "Daniel, I—"

She didn't continue; was looking down at Vince, an ex-boyfriend Daniel had to grudgingly assume, as though she didn't recognize him. Maybe she didn't. Thanks to older brothers who'd taught Daniel how to fight, this wasn't the first bully who'd had their ass handed to them by a McFadden. They all looked a whole lot less intimidating when they were laid out on the ground.

He turned to Stacy, even as he kept one vigilant eye on Vince. The man had managed to curl back up onto all fours, well three actually, since his one arm was still glued to his ribs. He was sucking in short hitches of breath but Daniel seriously doubted he'd busted anything. "Do we need to call the cops, Stacy?"

If this had just been a fight between two rivals, Daniel wouldn't have even bothered to ask the question. But, with Stacy pulling up stakes, and apparently not for the first time, he had a feeling there was something a whole lot more serious going on here.

Adam was gonna be so pissed, he thought, and then realized with an odd mixture of relief and disappointment that what Adam had to say about the situation didn't really matter anymore.

Still, getting into a fight and involving the law the night before he was going to announce that he was all grown up and leaving home? Well, he almost wouldn't blame his oldest brothers if they laughed in his face. And then promptly locked him in his room and threw away the key.

Shit. He needed to get tied into a court-case like he needed a hole in the head.

"Um-I-Do you think we should?" Stacy asked quietly. Daniel met her shimmering blue gaze, needing to know what had prompted her hesitation. It definitely wasn't a lingering affection for Vince. She was barely looking at the man and when she did, all Daniel saw was a combination of fear and loathing.

But what he also saw, and what affected him most, was the realization that Stacy was going to defer to whatever Daniel decided. That this was his call.

Even if she wanted nothing more than to move on with her life in the morning like she had planned.

Like Daniel had planned.

"No; we don't have to," Daniel said softly, squeezing Stacy's hand and turning back to the piece of slime at their feet. "Come near her again and I'll finish this." He left the threat to Vince's imagination, aware the message had been received when he stepped closer and watched the guy literally cower on the ground. Revulsion filled Daniel's gut and he kicked out at Vince's boot before ordering him to get lost. "Get the hell out of here and leave her alone."

Vince clearly didn't have to be told twice. Rasping out what might have been intended as some form of affirmative he scrambled to his feet and lurched away. Still cradling his ribs as he disappeared into the shadows once again.

* * *

Oh, thank fuck, Vince thought as he staggered out of the alley leading away from the parking lot. His Dodge was parked along the cross-street and he listed toward it, catching himself on the tailgate unsure whether his legs or lungs would give out on him first. He had no idea what that little shit had hit him with but he was only now barely getting his breath back. His legs no longer quite the consistency of jelly, they still weren't feeling a hell of a lot steadier than rubber though.

It had to have been brass knuckles. That's it, Vince decided. Either that or an invisible baseball bat. He had no other explanation for his body's complete shutdown after he'd taken that punch. It was like he'd been paralyzed except he could still feel everything, especially the pain.

The little cock-sucker was gonna pay for that. Pay for making Vince look weak in front of Stacy. No one made a fool of Vince Warner, especially in front of his girl.

But first he needed to regroup. And to regain the strength that piss-ant had stolen from him.

Using the frame of the truck for support, he slid along it until he found the door-handle. It was unlocked – a fact for which he was eternally grateful and equally mortified. He had his precious stash inside… what if someone had found it? Worse, stolen it?

Heaving himself up onto the seat, he flicked on the overhead light and opened up the glove-compartment before he even considered putting the key in the ignition.

The package was still there; its usually stark white contents glowing a soft gold in the artificial light.

Just the sight of it made him feel calmer. More in control. He couldn't wait any longer. Glimpsing around the pitch black neighborhood, he spotted no potential witnesses. Eagerly Vince reached into the recesses of the compartment and pulled out a tiny brass spoon along with his prize.

He opened it and dipped the spoon inside.

Minutes later, his eyes closed in a wondrous feeling of rapture, he could feel the strength returning to his limbs; his breaths evening out.

His resolve returning in full force.

Stacy was _his_ and nobody – not anyone – was going to come between them.

.

_To be continued._


End file.
